


Broken Crown (DISCONTINUED - Archived Version)

by FahriiCat_Archives



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FahriiCat_Archives/pseuds/FahriiCat_Archives
Summary: Shiro knows the threat of death is a constant. After a miserably failed mission, that threat becomes more of a reality and the leader of Voltron faces the sudden, imminent reality that success of their goal to defend the universe is not a guarantee.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: May 16, 2018  
> Last update date: Nov. 11, 2020

Shiro was 15 when he first believed he was going to die.

Huddled under the covers, his older sister covered his ears to try to drown out the sound but he could still hear everything going on downstairs. The screaming, the name-calling, the accusations. He could hear his mother almost in tears after a nasty sounding slap reverberated through the hallway. He cowered in his sister’s shoulder as she gently whispered Japanese lullabies to soothe him. The noise calmed down, and Shiro believed the worst was over until he realized he was just in the eye of the storm. The hurricane that was his step-father came pounding down the hallway of their one-story apartment, and Shiro felt his sister tighten her grip on him. The door handle twisted and got caught in the lock, but it didn’t deter the man outside. He rattled the handle a few more times before simply slamming his shoulder against the wood with all his force. Shiro pulled the covers over his head, cowering into a ball as his sister put an arm further around his shoulders protectively.

The next few minutes went by in a blur of his mother trying to diffuse the situation and his father nearly succeeding to break the door in half. Even if he hadn’t known why, Shiro knew that if his father were to reach him and his sister, their lives would have for sure been in real danger.

______

Shiro was 20 the second time he thought he would die.

The Garrison didn’t have much luck in the romance department, which is most likely why they so heavily stressed the goals of science and engineering. Shiro knew this going in, and, therefore, did not have high hopes. However, after proving his excellency and soaring above the other students in his academics, he found himself being followed by women flaunting themselves like peacocks in his direction. Matt Holt, his roommate, would consistently laugh and joke around that he wished he was in Shiro’s shoes. Shiro didn’t feel so sure.

Everything came to a head in advanced physics one day in April. Shiro normally had no problem with group projects, but after seeing he had been assigned to work with Kathy Summers, his heart dropped. Kathy was possibly the most persistent of the group that followed him around, resorting at times to push Matt out of the way to get to the Japanese man. He internally groaned when she sauntered up to him like a vixen, her hips swaying in a way that disgusted him. Forcing a smile, he passed the worksheet to her as she sat just a little too close to his hip. Throughout the entire process, she touched him every chance she got. He scowled as he saw Matt stifling a laugh and sending him a knowing wink, and took a deep breath before looking back at his own project. Once they had finished the experiment, he’d never been so happy to be away from a person in his life. However, she had other plans and proved so when she grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss. Apparently, this was a spectacle for all the students surrounding them that let out oohs and aahs.

Shiro was more than convinced that the embarrassment that washed over him would make him keel over right then and there, and he wouldn’t have even been upset.

______

Shiro was 24 the third time he knew he would most certainly die.

This time, there were no girls. No step-father pounding on his door. No classrooms that felt too constricting sometimes and no sister to hold him close. This time, there was only him, Matt, and an arena of sand. Shiro could clearly see, even in the dimming light, that Matt was close to breaking down entirely. The sweat shimmered on his forehead, and his whole body shivered and twitched with a mixture of anticipation and terror. In a split-second decision, Shiro bolted forward, grabbing the sword being offered to his friend. Whipping it through the air, he felt immediate remorse as it sliced through Matt’s leg, tearing through fabric, skin, and muscle. He knew it would leave a permanent scar, but if it kept him out of the ring, it was a necessary risk. Occupational hazards, and all that. As he leaned down to tell Matt to find his family, he felt strong hands gripping his upper arms before he was physically thrown onto the rough sand. He pressed his hand into it to steady himself, cringing at the feeling of something wet.

The doors he had been pushed through closed immediately behind him, and he was left with Matt’s scream ringing in his ears. He turned back to see a massive lizard-lion hybrid stalking closer to him. He gripped the sword in his right hand, bending slightly at the knee to brace himself for the defensive moves he knew he’d have to make. On five legs, the creature roared and sprinted forward at speeds Shiro had never seen from any living animal in his life. He knew bracing himself would certainly get him killed, and rolled and ducked at the very last moment. The creature slammed into the wall, instantly shaking itself off and coming after him again. Shiro’s legs burned and his breath was short and choppy as he desperately hid behind one of the large pillars. The Galrans were cheering in the stands, but Shiro had a feeling it wasn’t for him.

He felt and heard the beast sniffing around for him, and knew now that it was either him or it. Taking a deep breath, he let out a cry and ran out of his hiding place. The creature turned its gaze to him, all twelve eyes locked on his head. Crouching, Shiro pulled the sword behind his head, anticipating the leap. However, he wasn’t expecting was for the creature to feint left and twist around to come in at his other side. He had already swung the sword in a downward diagonal motion, driving it into the sand under his feet. He tugged, beginning to panic when it stubbornly refused to dislodge, only shifting a little bit. He turned his head at the sound of paws thundering toward him. After a final frantic pull, he ran the large weapon directly into the eye socket of the creature in a last-ditch effort to stay alive.

The last thing he remembered was the sight of a large claw coming toward his face, excruciating pain under his eyes, and then nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

From that moment on, death was always on the forefront of Shiro’s mind. Every day was a fight to survive, whether it be from battles in the arena or simple starvation. When he fought back against the guards, he was lucky to receive the punishment of lack of food. The bad days resulted in being taken to a back room and burned with electricity that felt like fire in his veins. It built up under his eyes, his healing wound flaring up with the heat of the nearby Galran-occupied sun. Each torture session left him weak and exhausted, and yet he still did not give up. He would not yield to these creatures. It was his job to survive and get back to Earth…somehow. Humanity had to be warned of the plans he overheard when he pretended to sleep. The Galran race was moving quickly through the galaxy, and Earth was just another tiny conquest in their mission to rule the universe. Whoever this Zarkon person was, he was the ringleader apparently and Shiro decided to make it his personal mission to drive a sword through his heart the moment he got a chance. He would give just desserts for the nights he lies alone in chains, hungry and tired.

Despite being thin and deprived of proper food, Shiro was growing stronger. Under his small frame, a layer of solid muscle began forming as a result of the fights he was sent into. Matt would comment on it at times, trying to lighten the mood with jokes. Shiro told him not to waste his energy. After each fight he came back from, the druids would take him to be healed in chambers that knit his bones back together and fused the skin to the point of minimal scarring. He would somehow always feel worse falling out of the pods. The one wound they had not chosen to heal was the slice across the bridge of his nose. It was a mark of a warrior, they claimed, although Shiro believed more that they forced it to scar badly as a constant reminder to him that they owned him like some sort of wild animal. Maybe he was a wild animal to them after all. They didn’t know what humans were, so he supposed it would make at least a little bit of sense.

The only druid he let himself fear was the master witch. Her torture hurt the most and seemed to permeate the deepest into his psyche. Her pure gold eyes burned into his soul, making him feel small and helpless when she turned her gaze toward him. By listening to other Galrans talk around the base, this witch was called Haggar, and he was correct in being afraid. She was Zarkon’s wife and was unimaginably powerful. The red marks crisscrossing her eyes made her look more sinister than normal. Occasionally she would step in and watch the agony he was put through, often adding her own little flare when he was unruly or disobedient. Shiro could feel her blasts of light draining him of energy, slowly yet surely taking a physical toll on him. During one particular punishment after not giving the Galrans around the arena a compelling enough struggle, he caught a glimpse of himself in the stainless steel surface of the walls around him and was horrified to watch as, each time the lightning hit him, the front fluff of hair turned just a little bit more white.

It was yet another permanent marker the Galrans decided to give him, and he decided in that room that he would kill each and every one of these monsters once he finished off their leader.

Shiro learned quickly to fear Haggar in more ways than one. While she was always looming as a physical threat to him and his health, he found that she would make her way into his mind as well. Nightmares would involve her torturing him even in sleep, and he would awake more exhausted than when he slept, only to be shoved back into the arena. One of these times resulted in a gruesome injury that he knew he could not come back from. The claw across the nose was one thing, but it was just a simple claw mark (albeit a large one). This time, he fought against a creature that stood on two legs, with razor-sharp fangs and a wolf-like appearance. His mind immediately went to a werewolf on steroids, but something about the build didn’t feel wolfish. Shiro settled on wolf-tiger as the combination as it rushed toward him. Its bulky stature didn’t let it go very fast, and Shiro took that to his advantage. He was much smaller than it, and, therefore, more nimble. Quick on his feet. He slid and ducked and focused mainly on tiring the beast. He knew he risked exhausting himself as well, but it was the best option he could think of.

Unfortunately, he had misjudged just how much energy he had left. His previous night of virtually no sleep whatsoever caught up to him, slowing him down and causing him to waste precious seconds thinking of a plan to continue evading this beast. This became his downfall as the creature caught up to him. Without hesitation, it opened its jaws and locked them around Shiro’s right arm. The man couldn’t help but cry out in surprise which seemed only to egg the creature on. It strengthened its bite to the point that Shiro felt the bones cracking. He screeched, raising the sword with his left hand to bring it down on the furry neck. It sunk halfway down but did not deter the monster. He lost his grip, as his left arm was less coordinated and weaker, and the wolf-tiger-hybrid hardly batted an eyelash at the blade now protruding from its neck. It only locked its jaws and shook Shiro like a ragdoll. Muscles tore and sinews snapped. Skin ripped apart and nerves caught on fire.

Shiro screamed.

______

The next thing he knew, he was back in his cell. He could feel his prisoner uniform drenched with dried blood, disgusted at how it stuck to his skin, and left dark brown marks around him. He was alone and only registered blank confusion at his situation. He made to brush the white hair from his face, only to be met with something heavy and foreign. It didn’t feel like him. In fact, now that he noticed it, he couldn’t feel much below the upper section of his right arm. He looked down and almost vomited. In the purple lights of the Galra ship, bright chrome metal glinted back at him, accented with deep grey joints. He lifted his shirt sleeve to see it was grafted to his flesh, most likely permanently. His flesh ended, and metal began. Scarring and burns surrounded the connection sight, and he felt his eyes water slightly. All he wanted now was his sister next to him to tell him things would be ok, but she wasn’t here. Things wouldn’t be ok again.

_____

A loud gasp struck through the silence as Takashi Shirogane shot up in bed. His breathing ragged, he ran his flesh hand through his hair as he took in his surroundings.

The castle.

His bed.

The calming teal lights outside his room.

A nightmare. That’s all it had been. It wasn’t uncommon for nightmares to haunt him at night, but this one, for whatever reason, was sticking with him uncomfortably easily. He forced himself to take deep breaths, looking down at his arm. The connection point had scarred over, and the horrific burns were only proven by lighter skin running up to his shoulder. Shiro took a breath. Knowing they had a mission the next day, in which Voltron would inevitably be needed, he rested his head back on the pillow, turning over and closing his eyes to try and get a few more hours of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro was already up by the time the morning lights came on in the castle, having failed at sleeping further after his dream. He made his way to the main bridge, knowing Allura would be there even in the early hour. Sure enough, he spotted her with her hands on the controls, manipulating a large celestial map surrounding her. Turning as he cleared his throat in greeting, she smiled lightly in greeting.

“I’ve got intel on the planet we are infiltrating today,” she began.

Shiro walked up the steps to stand by her. “What did you find out?”

Allura zoomed in on one of the planets in her map, presumably the one they would be going to. “The Galra have taken over nearly half of the surface, placing squadrons every ten miliquaints from each other.”

“Miliquaints?”

“According to Pidge, it would be equal to almost one Earth mile.”

Shiro wondered if he would ever figure out the ratios of measurements, but put it out of his mind for now. “So what’s the plan?”

Allura increased the map again, allowing them to see the surface of the planet. Red dots marked where each Galra base was located, making the planet look like a half decorated Christmas tree. “Hunk and Lance will be in charge of drilling into the surface with the Yellow Lion to reach the underground explosives the Galra have planted. The lions are equipped with sensors, so Yellow will be able to spot each explosive accurately from above ground. Pidge will be monitoring the lions from above, with her cloaking hiding the Green Lion. She will be working to shut down all Galra security systems so it will be easier when you move in to rescue any prisoners and gain information. Keith will work as a distraction, as the Red Lion is the quickest and most effective in maneuvering. It will be his job to make sure the Yellow Lion is not targeted by nearby bases.”

She then zoomed out a bit to show the atmosphere, which was littered with purple areas. “Each of these markers is a Galra ship. You, Coran, and I will stay in the atmosphere and hold them off, as they will be the biggest threat. Our main goal is to target their communication systems, so they will not be able to send a warning to those on the ground. The Black Lion will be invaluable in doing this with her wings, as she will be able to take out multiple at a time until it is safe for you to join the others on the planet's surface.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure this will work?” he finally asked.

“I have the utmost faith in you all,” Allura said. “If there are any threats that this mission will fail, I will be sure to alert you all to fall back and we will try again another day. Rescuing these prisoners is our top priority, and we can always go back later if we are in desperate need of the information that can be gathered from the bases. I’m sure Pidge would be more than happy to do so.”

Shiro nodded, not exactly feeling relieved with the answer, but figuring it wasn’t the worst he could’ve received. “When do we head out?”

Allura looked thoughtful. “A few vargas,” she said. “We will have to wormhole to the system, and from there it will be only a couple dobashes. Coran is on his way to help navigate, and he has already made sure our castle weapons are well equipped.”

Shiro sighed lightly. “I’ll wake the others,” he said. “They’ll need a good breakfast before we get in the lions.” With that, he made his way out of the control room and into the hallways that led to the dormitory rooms. On the way, his mind began to wander. Of course, he was nervous about sending his team into a planet almost full of Galran soldiers, but on the other hand, he knew they were more than experienced enough and more than willing to handle it. Yellow was reliably armored. Red was easily the most capable of outrunning blasts. Green was completely invisible when cloaked. Realistically, he trusted his team and the connection they had with the huge robots. It was the Galra he was worried about, as well as just how much intel Allura had really gotten. Was it reliable? Who had she gotten it from? He assumed castle databases, but he couldn’t be sure. He should've asked.

Before he could fall deeper down that hole, he reached the paladins’ bedroom doors. Taking a deep breath, he began the process of getting them up and prepared for the day ahead.

_____

Black was the largest lion. This was obvious, and quite fitting for the leading lion of Voltron. Her massive, magnificent red wings folded by her side, and her long steel tail gently swished back and forth at the sight of her paladin approaching her in armor. She leaned down and opened her jaws to allow him entrance, sending her love through their link. Ever since Zarkon had been fully rejected, the pair had grown even closer and it was almost as though Zarkon was never even a paladin in Black’s eyes. The great lion could feel when he was finally defeated once and for all and could sense her paladin’s overwhelming relief at the same time. However, recently, she’d been feeling a bit of a disconnect with Shiro that she just could not explain.

Shiro noticed it as well at times. As he sat in his chair to head to the base planet, his connection with Black sparked to life. This time, however, there was something missing. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but it made him exceedingly uneasy. He gripped the control sticks and pushed forward, propelling his lion out into deep space. The Yellow, Green, and Red Lions were waiting for him, Blue being the only cat unoccupied and still back on the castle.

“Shiro, are you sure Lance and I should be the ones looking for explosives?” came Hunk’s anxious voice through the communication systems in their helmets. “ ‘Cuz maybe the Black Lion should do it. Or the Red Lion. She’s the fastest!”

“That’s why she needs to be a distraction, Hunk,” Pidge cut in as they made their way into the planet’s system. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“But what if we’re not?” Hunk exclaimed, exasperated. “What if Yellow’s just a big target? What if we accidentally hit an explosive she didn’t see? We could be blown to pieces!”

“Hunk, I swear!” Lance growled from within Yellow. “Buddy, you’re gonna start freaking me out. We’re gonna be fine because Lancey-Lance is on the case! My awesome wits will keep us from being damaged!”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Ok, Lance,” he said. “Focus.”

“I am focusing,” Lance retorted. “I’m just focusing on reassuring my best friend, my buddy, my pal.”

“Dear God, Lance,” Pidge said, although not unkindly. “Although I must say you gotta be persuasive since even Keith hasn’t said anything.”

Now that she mentioned it, Shiro realized Keith really hadn’t said anything since they exited the hangar doors. The Red Lion was simply flying alongside them in silence.

“Keith?” he asked. “What’s up? What’re you thinking?”

There was a beat of radio silence. Then, “I don’t have a very good feeling about this one.”

“What do you mean?” Hunk asked, yet again beginning to submit to his nerves.

“I dunno,” Keith replied. “It’s just a feeling in my gut, I guess. It feels like we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Tell your gut to suck it up,” Lance said. “Everything’s gonna be fine. If you wanna be a baby about it, you can turn your lion around. I’m sure Hunk and I will be fine without your constant monologuing of your inner thoughts.”

“Lance,” Shiro said sternly. “Keith is right to be nervous. He’s not turning around because he might end up being the only thing between you and a Galran blaster.” Hunk gulped audibly at that. “Anyway, Keith, I’m sure things are going to be just fine. We know the protocol, and we’ve trained for this many times. Allura wouldn’t send us somewhere she felt was unsafe for us.”

“I guess so,” Keith muttered, not sounding sure of Shiro’s answer.

An uncomfortable silence followed, even deterring Lance from making any snarky comments. Before long, they came up to the planet’s atmosphere. Pidge and Coran cloaked the Green Lion and the castle, and Shiro dimmed the lights on his lion. One benefit of his robot being all black was camouflage. They bid good luck to Hunk, Lance, and Keith, and watched as they stealthily made their way down to the planet’s surface. Pidge’s position on the map moved directly over the first base, and Shiro knew she was already getting fed numbers and combinations from Green that he would never hope to understand. He may have been first in his class, but there was something about the way Pidge could analyze the meaningless data she received that he could just never pick up efficiently.

“Shiro, be sure to look out for enemy ships,” Allura said from the castle.

“On it, Princess,” he said.

He flew Black slowly through the sky, scanning with her infrared sensors for anything suspicious. After a few minutes, he realized that the most suspicious thing was the lack of things. There was nothing in this planet’s sky, which seemed odd considering the number of bases on the planet itself. There should be some sort of protection, shouldn’t there? Shiro’s eyes narrowed as he strained to see anything in the jet black open area of space, and he felt Black’s unease creep into his psyche to join his own. Slightly drowning out the conversation between Pidge, Hunk, and Lance, he felt strong paranoia settle in his gut. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Keith was right.

Maybe they really shouldn’t be here.

“Princess, is there anything on your scanners?” Shiro asked, thoroughly unnerved.

“According to the castle, there’s no organic lifeforms at all except for you and the others.”

Shiro’s blood ran cold.

“Did Allura just say we’re the only living things here?” Pidge asked. “That doesn’t seem right…”

“Guys, I’m really not sure we should be down here for much longer,” Keith said. “Red’s starting to get nervous.”

“Yellow is, too,” Hunk replied. “We haven’t yet picked up any indication of explosives under the ground. Not any that are still active, anyway.”

“That’s not right,” Allura mused, her tone of voice indicating she was likely re-checking the map and information she’d gotten.

“Allura, where did you get this info?” Shiro asked. His gut told him not to contradict Allura’s authority, but the fear for the safety of his team quickly pushed it down.

“It was in the castle databases,” she said. “Because this planet is so obscure, it took a while to find.”

“Are you sure it’s up to date?”

Allura paused, and Shiro gripped the control sticks harder, preparing to launch Black forward. “I…I’m not sure…”

“Alright team, enough!” Shiro shouted over the comms. With how strong the overwhelming feeling of bad, bad, bad that was likely also a result of the fear in Black for her sisters, he wasn’t going to risk them being down there for another moment. He began berating himself for not acting on his previous feeling of unease before they even left the castle.

“Thank God!” Hunk cried, and Shiro watched as Yellow burst from the ground and began the ascent toward him. The Green Lion uncloaked and Pidge and Keith came to hover parallel to Shiro. The Yellow Lion, however, was having trouble gaining altitude.

“Hunk, what’s your status?” Shiro asked.

“I’ve no idea!” Hunk said, clearly distressed. “There are warnings all over the dash, and Yellow won’t go any faster!”

Shiro turned to address Keith and Pidge, Black’s head moving to each respective lion as he did so. “You guys go back to the castle. Tell Allura and Coran to get a wormhole ready, and I’ll aid Hunk and Lance and get back as quick as I can.”

After Pidge and Keith confirmed the order, Shiro drove Black downward to meet Yellow. Black’s concern for her yellow pride-mate was evident in the way she brought her paws closer to her body to fall faster. Without warning, she had to sidetrack as a large blast of purple light nearly blew off her left wing. Shiro cried out, his left shoulder painfully colliding with the dashboard as he was thrown from the pilot chair. Reorienting himself, he hopped back in and began taking evasive maneuvers to avoid the sudden onslaught of purple light around him. He could hear Hunk and Lance in the same predicament, and desperately scanned for Yellow’s location. As it turns out, she was much closer to the castle than he was, and he twisted Black to backtrack to the others. He activated Black’s jawblade, ramming into small Galra ships on his way to the castle and tearing through the hulls of others that dared fly in front of him.

“Princess! Open the wormhole! I’ll be right behind you!” he cried.

“I’m trying, but it’ll take a few dobashes to get enough power!” she replied, clearly upset and strained.

“We might just have to risk it! We need out of this airspace!” Shiro called back. Black was twisting and turning, but her large size made her more of a target than he would like her to be. She could no longer blend in with the dark sky with the lights flashing around her. Once the castle came into view, he saw the fifth hanger door open for his lion, aiming toward it and pushing the control sticks as hard as he could. He felt Black straining to keep her speed, but she’d been hit too many times by rogue fire blasts to reach her maximum speed. Shiro promised her through their link he would personally pamper her once this was all over..

To his left, a larger Galra cruiser came into view, its top cannon sparking to life. Shiro twisted his head between it and the castle and came to the realization that there was no way he would make it to safety in time. He pulled the handles, sending Black soaring off to the right and out of range of the cannon.

“Allura, you have to open that wormhole!” he screeched, feeling a different cannon blast knock into Black’s left flank. All he heard back was static, and he couldn’t help the wave of panic that washed over him. His helmet sensors showed that when Black was hit from the side, it offset the communication abilities, and he was essentially stranded as far as that went. His only hope now was to guide Black to that last hangar door as fast as he could and avoid offensive actions as much as possible to let her transfer all energy to speed. In his peripheral, he noticed a group of small ships approaching him and knew Black would have to last one more hit before they made it. Mentally bracing himself, he held onto the control sticks for dear life.

He never felt the impact. Instead, he heard the sound of crunching metal and the telltale whoosh of ship remains being thrown into deep space. He turned to see a streak of blue surrounding him as the Blue Lion raced around her older sister.

“Lance! What’re you doing?” he cried, static reminding him that the comms were down. Instead, he pushed Black once again toward the castle, Blue following close behind and keeping any ships from coming too close.

He saw a large wormhole forming as Allura prepared the castle to escape once Black and Blue were onboard. It likely wouldn’t take them far, but Shiro prayed it would still be far enough for them all to take a breather. Without warning, a massive Galran cruiser, coming from its own larger wormhole, rammed into the back of the castle. Despite the particle barrier being up, it managed to shove the castle through the wormhole Allura had made, the galaxy closing up behind it. Shiro and Lance were now by themselves, with damaged communication and an injured lion, to face the largest Galran cruiser Shiro had seen in a long time.

He saw it before he felt it. The massive ship sent a cannon blast directly at the two lions now trying to evade fire. He saw the Blue Lion get hit first, immediately being rendered powerless. The next thing he knew, Black’s dashboard went entirely black and gravity began doing its job and the two robotic lions fell to the surface of the planet.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Shiro registered was a pounding headache right behind his eyes. He groaned inwardly as he began taking mental inventory of his body. He could move his toes, his flesh arm was still attached, the Galra arm was functional. It seemed to him that physically he was alright enough to push himself up and get moving to find Lance. He grunted as his foot snagged on something, and he turned around to see it was one of the flight sticks in Black. Only then did he realize the massive cat was on her side, and he was being pressed on both sides between the flight stick and the main dashboard. Without warning, pain flared to life on his right side as he attempted to move further upwards to dislodge. As his senses all came back to him, he bit back another cry as another futile attempt to free himself only resulted in a bitter agony flooding the right side of his ribcage. He figured a few ribs must be broken, or at least fractured, and prayed to God his lungs were left intact.

Knowing it was almost useless to keep trying, he started looking around the dark cockpit as his eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light from Black shutting off. His helmet was off to the side, but, with the communications down, it wouldn’t do him any good, anyway. He noted a few dents and scratches on Black’s interior, as well as a large crack running down the right side of the windshield. Shiro knew then that the poor lion had shattered her right eye, likely as a result of crashing so hard onto the ground with her defense system offline. His only thought then was of Lance, and how the hell he was going to reach him when he had no access to the outside world and was stuck in his lion.

Meanwhile, said blue paladin was just coming to in his own cockpit. His eyes opened slowly, and he was met with a single blinking red light in the center of Blue’s windshield. He moaned under his breath with strain as he gingerly reached forward to press a finger against it. A small map of Blue’s malfunctions popped up in front of him, the red mixing with his blue surroundings to make a creepy purple that got under his skin. Aside from those warning lights, all was dark and quiet. Lance could feel Blue’s presence in his mind, reassuring him she would be alright if she were allowed to rest and heal herself. He sent back an apprehensive look through their link, and felt immediately as though she were his mother telling him to worry about himself.

“You’re the one that needs immediate help,” Lance muttered out loud. “Besides, if you know you’ll be ok, I need to go find Shiro.”

Black Paladin lives, Blue told him. Do not go out.

“I have to, Blue,” Lance countered, almost comforted that his voice filled the crushing silence. “He may be alive now, but who knows what happened to Black? They didn’t fall on soft ground like you did.”

Wait until I heal, she pleaded. I will take you.

“I appreciate the concern, girl,” Lance said. “But we both know I have to do this now before things have a chance to get worse.”

Blue simply sighed, and Lance could feel under his feet that her jaw was now open. He patted her dashboard, mentally thanking her and telling her to get better, and set off in full armor to find Shiro. Once he stepped foot outside, he was almost shocked to see how Earth-like this planet was. It felt as though he was trudging through snow, which is likely the reason Blue hadn’t been too damaged by the fall. His heart sank as he realized it was only convenient; Shiro and Black must have tumbled on the rocks that expanded in all directions around him. Lance assumed Blue had used the last of her power to steer them toward a safer landing sight, but Black must not have had anything online after she took the hit from the ion cannon. Speaking of which, Lance looked up to only see clear skies.

Did the Garla just want to separate Voltron and let the elements handle the rest? The paladin shivered at the thought. It gave him a new incentive to find Shiro. He brought up the hologram map in his visor that showed the location of the other lions and saw a single purple diamond about a mile ahead of him. As he strained his eyes against the dark, starry sky, he could indeed see a patch of constellations that were abnormally blocked out. Activating his jetpack, he began making his way to Black.

As he did so, back in the larger winged lion, Shiro had given up expending valuable energy trying to escape. Now, as it was with almost all situations, his mind was in survival mode. Or, as the other paladins so lovingly called it, the I-don’t-feel-like-dying-in-a-massive-robotic-cat-today mode. Now he saw the accuracy of the nickname. He searched around for anything that could be used as a crowbar to jam under the broken control handle and shove it off of him. Who knew these damn things were so heavy when not being held up by electricity or quintessence or whatever it was they were powered by? He felt the edge beginning to press further into his left side, which only served to aggravate his right as it was pushed further into the dash’s edge. His searching, although he would never admit it, grew a bit more desperate. So much so, that, when a sudden light came into view, the surprise of something different in the environment caused Shiro to yelp in surprise.

He turned to be confronted with the glowing teal of a familiar "V" coming toward him, as well as the same blue light illuminating Lance’s horrified face. Shiro knew it was bad but obviously couldn’t twist around to see the full extent of the damage. It must be worse than he thought. Little to his knowledge, Lance was just taking in the sight of the leader of Voltron as he was crushed under the weight of Black’s interior. With her walls being black instead of blue, it was difficult to see around him, but the lights of his armor certainly helped. Shiro was bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable or safe; one ankle was held back by the right flight stick, twisting his right leg to a degree that sent chills down Lance’s spine.

The left flight stick was snapped, the end digging into Shiro’s left side. Both of his arms, while not stuck, were very close to being pinned had Shiro been thrown another inch to the right. What Shiro and Lance couldn’t see was the shard of broken glass protruding from the dashboard and cutting into the older man. Neither of them knew the extent of the blood loss until Lance crouched to Shiro’s level to speak, only for the lights of his armor to illuminate pools and splatters of fresh blood surrounding them, coating Black’s walls like a bad paint job.

“Sh-Shiro?”

The black paladin could clearly hear the fear in Lance’s voice as he glanced frantically around him. Shiro watched Lance’s hands shake in front of him in the light of his armor as he knelt next to the older man.

“Lance, listen,” Shiro said firmly. His order seemed to bring Lance back to himself. “You’ve got a better grasp at how the control stick is pinning me down. You need to try and move it so I can stand.”

Nodding shakily, Lance stood slowly so the teal armor lights had a chance to expand further.

“I-it looks like it’s just the flight controls,” he stated.

“Good, good,” Shiro responded, his side beginning to go numb. “I can’t move, so you need to be the one to get it off.”

“What if I make it worse?” Lance fretted. His hands continued to shake.

“You won’t,” Shiro assured. “I trust you. I don’t care if I get hurt. I’d rather get bumped than die under this thing.”

Those words seemed to be so jarring to Lance that he snapped from his fearful stupor and crouched by the control stick. Looking at it up close, he saw that the wires and pieces of steel that normally kept it level were bent and crushed, likely from Black’s head smashing against the rock. He wrapped both hands around it, putting all his remaining energy into pulling it back, to no avail. The only thing he accomplished was jostling Shiro and hearing him cry out as the glass dug further into his ribcage.

“Sorry!” Lance hissed as he made to shove the stick the other direction. By the grace of Voltron it creaked against the floor and toppled, shaking Black’s cockpit with the force in which it hit the ground. Shiro fell to the floor, immediately on edge by the wetness he was now lying in. Both he and Lance heard the telltale sounds of a chunk of glass hitting the floor behind the black paladin. Quickly, Lance grabbed Shiro under the arms and dragged him to a drier section of the cockpit, immediately focusing his armor lights on Shiro’s side. He nearly gagged at the sight of a rip almost as thick as his wrist lining the bottom of Shiro’s ribcage.

“Stay here,” he said, getting up to grab the medical kit each lion carried.

Shiro gave a weak laugh. “Don’t worry,” he huffed. “Won’t be going anywhere.”

“That isn’t funny,” Lance reprimanded, although Shiro knew he didn’t mean it and was likely trying to calm his own nerves. He winced as Lance began pressing gauze and bandages to the wound, breathing heavier than before. He knew if this bleeding didn’t stop, it wouldn’t end well, especially considering the wound was now open and bleeding freely.

“Hold that there,” he heard Lance order. He did as he was told, keeping the thick bandages pressed to his side with as much force as he could muster. Times like these made him almost glad for his Galra arm and its ability to remain strong when the rest of his body couldn’t. He closed his eyes against the burning sting that was now flooding his abdomen, barely noticing when Lance smeared antiseptic over the ripped skin. He grit his teeth against the new pain battering his system, clenching his fists. Through the pounding in his head and blood roaring in his ears, he could hear Lance’s quiet whispers of apology and panic.

“We need to get you to Blue,” Lance said suddenly, speaking loudly enough that it clearly broke through Shiro’s haze. “She’s still got a little power. She can keep her interior warm.”

Now that Shiro focused on it, it really was quite cold in Black. He shivered subconsciously, which seemed to only reassure Lance that his decision was justified. With a bit of a struggle, they managed to pry open Black's crushed jaw and begin walking the short distance to the blue lion. Shiro mentally assured Black that he would be back for her, and, despite her power being entirely wiped out, he could still feel a weak purr of understanding through the link. He allowed Lance to be his crutch, keeping his hand on the bandage that was now tightly wrapped and taped around his midsection. Lance had had to remove the top half of his armor to do so, and Shiro was wracked with shivers as the freezing temperatures of the snowy planet's nighttime hit him. His thin flight suit was absolutely inappropriate for this kind of weather.

Lance pressed against him, and Shiro heard an audible sigh of relief as they spotted the electric blue metal under a thin layer of snow. He wasn’t sure which one of them it came from. The blue lion looked battered and a bit worse for wear, but she opened her jaws for the two the moment they rounded the corner. After the teeth shut behind them, Shiro felt warmth against him and realized Blue had powered on her heating system. He mentally reminded himself to give her a full bath when they got her back to the castle after he was finished with Black's.

“Here,” Lance said, gesturing to one of the cots that he pulled from the cockpit wall. “Lie down.”

Shiro was more than happy to oblige. He grunted as pressure was put on his injury, but, with the new heat around him, he was beginning to feel lightheaded and comfortable. He felt as Lance hooked a few wires to his chest that attached to Blue, and heard a sound from her dashboard as his vitals popped up on her windscreen display. His ears picked up Lance sucking in a sharp breath before his exhaustion got the better of him.

_____

Pale grey eyes shifted open to blurry vision and the panicked stare of a brown-haired boy with tears in his eyes.

“Shiro!” Lance cried. “Y-you weren’t breathing! I thought - … I thought…”

Shiro weakly reached out with his metal arm, resting his hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance hated how shaky the grip was.

“Have you contacted the castle?” he asked.

Lance shook his head, standing. “They must be in a whole ‘nother galaxy at this rate. Who knows how far they can be shoved through a wormhole?”

Shiro closed his eyes again and groaned. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon, but we can’t stay in Blue forever.”

“I know,” Lance replied, his fear clear in his voice. “We’ll run out of supplies eventually…”

Shiro sighed, and attempted to sit. He bit back a moan at the sharp sting that flooded his system. Keeping his left hand pressed to his ribs, he leaned back against the wall of Blue’s cockpit.

“We should have enough food for a while,” Lance said from his chair. “I always keep extra because if I didn’t I’m sure the mice would get to it.”

Shiro managed a short laugh that quickly turned into a cough that shook his entire frame. “Of course you do,” he said once he’d caught his breath. He watched Lance duck under the dashboard, pulling out a box of miscellaneous food packets and leftovers that Shiro recognized from his visits to the kitchen to watch Hunk bake. Of course Lance kept extras of those meals, although Shiro wasn’t sure how he was keeping them from getting stale. To avoid a headache, he chalked it up to Blue’s normally cold interior working as a makeshift refrigerator. Lance brought over what appeared to be a granola bar of sorts. Whatever it was, Shiro was more than happy to take it. Lance sat next to him on the small cot, nibbling slowly at his own food bar.

“We’re going to be stuck here for a while…aren’t we?” he asked.

Shiro shook his head slowly. “It’s a possibility, but we can’t think that way. Allura and the others will come for us. I’m sure they’ve already locked onto Blue and Black’s signatures on this planet.”

“They could be blocked by the atmosphere or the Galra or the lions' lack of any significant power. Besides, there’s no way the Galra would have just fled…not when two Voltron paladins are down for the count.”

Shiro despised the logic in that, but almost hated the realization more. The Galra hadn’t come for them yet. They had let the two sit here for hours now, and there were no sign of the fluffy cat aliens. He shuddered involuntarily at just what that might mean.

“We need to be prepared,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“Which weapons do you have in Blue?”

Lance looked forlorn. “Just my bayard. Do you have anything extra in Black?”

Shiro thought for a moment. “Maybe a sword of some sort, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get back in her until she powers back up enough to move her jaw. With the damage she sustained, that could take hours.”

Lance stayed ominously silent. Shiro glanced over at him and noticed the younger was purposefully avoiding his gaze. “Something’s wrong,” he said eventually, pointing out the obvious.

Lance flinched. Shiro felt ice in his veins.

“What happened to Black?”

“Shiro, you shouldn’t be worri - ”

“Lance,” Shiro interrupted, his leader voice coming out clearly. “I need to see her. I need to assess her damage now that the light is coming back.”

Looking out of Blue’s eyes, Lance saw that morning indeed was beginning to creep in. Shiro had been out for longer than he thought, which also meant Lance had been awake for longer than he had planned to be. “Shiro,” he countered. “You’re in no condition to walk, let alone take inventory of everything wrong with a lion. You nearly bled out before I freed you from that flight stick.”

“Then help me,” Shiro pleaded. “Please, Lance.”

“Shiro…I - ”

“This is not a request,” Shiro hissed, his eyes hardening.

Lance sighed, resigned. “Ok.”

Awkwardly, the two managed to stand well enough for Shiro to lean nearly all of his weight on Lance, heavily favoring his left side. They crawled from Blue’s jaws, giving Shiro a better look at the landscape in the morning light. It reminded him a bit of Keith’s desert home, and he could see nothing but light blue sand and deep misted mountains for miles. If they were here under any other circumstance, he would have taken a few moments to stop and admire the planet, but he didn’t have that luxury. His lion was suffering. His connection to Black was slowly fading. Lance guided him in the direction of a large mass blocking out the rising sun.

The Black Lion was coated in a sheen layer of blue snow, but it wouldn’t be an overly daunting task to clean her off at the castle. Once they reached her front side, Lance heard Shiro’s harsh intake of breath as the horror slowly set in.

“Black…” he murmured. He hardly heard anything back, but the small wisp of her presence was still there. She hadn’t begun to repair herself, and Shiro knew that meant nothing good.

Black’s side was scuffed, large scratches clearing a path through her glossy black metal. One paw was bent at a strange angle, and Shiro could see a few feet off a large indent in the Earth, likely caused by Black smashing into the ground and rolling. He guessed that was where her paw hit. Her lower half seemed more or less intact, but the front half of her magnificent body was beaten and battered. As Shiro scanned his way up her torso, he felt the urge to be sick. It only seemed to be getting worse as he went along, as Black had landed virtually face-first into rock. What scared Shiro the most was the knowledge that rocks had never been an issue before. The lions had fallen on worse surfaces than this unscathed, so what happened here?

Before he could think too far into that question, his eyes landed on her head and he fell to the ground to proceed to be sick, as he’d predicted. He felt Lance’s hand gently rest on his shoulder, and his chest screamed in pain almost as loud as his anguish for his lion. Black’s left eye was shattered, and the outer glass was nearly non-existent. Her nose had the largest tear of any of the ones that littered her body, and it sliced vertically through as though a large razor had been used instead of the surface of a planet. Both front paws were smashed in various places and dislocated in others. But the worst was her muzzle.

The lower half of her jaw was hanging by a thread. Entirely dislocated from the upper half of her head, it lie crumpled and crushed with broken metal and a disgusting connotation that when she’d hit the ground, Shiro had been flung so violently due to her lower jaw coming unhinged and nearly being crushed entirely under her weight. It was a miracle not only that Lance was able to get in and out of the lion, but that Shiro never even noticed as he'd been dragged from such rubble. Shiro, on all fours, lowered his head to the soft sand.

It was in that moment that Lance realized he had never before seen Shiro cry.


	5. Chapter 5

Shiro, with Lance’s help, limped slowly closer to Black’s mangled jaw. Through their mental link, he heard her pained groan as she desperately attempted to come online. Never in his life had Shiro heard anything so earth-shattering. Placing his hand in a particularly rough dent, he felt tears sliding down his face as Lance braced his shoulder, a constant presence. The blue paladin allowed Shiro to take his time as they forced Black’s jaw up so they could reach behind her cockpit. It looked as though an explosion had gone off inside her, sending the supplies, blankets, and food rations to the floor. The morning light covered the scene in a gruesome orange. Shiro thanked the entire Altean race that none of the food boxes had opened and spilled, and he and Lance began the long process of carrying them from Black over to Blue.

According to Lance, Blue was functional enough to provide basic oxygen and life support, but they would have to do the rest. Carrying the boxes of supplies took both of them and they took frequent breaks to let Shiro rest. Nearly an entire day had gone by before they finally packed up in Blue for the night. Lance sat at the control console, and Shiro saw his face contort as he spoke with Blue. The Cuban turned back to him after a few moments and sat by him on the small cot each lion had in their cockpits’ rear.

“She says she has enough energy to move over to Black,” Lance began. “It just means it’ll take her a few extra days to repair herself than it normally would.”

Shiro stayed silent. He didn’t want Blue to exert energy she didn’t really have, but he also wanted to jump up and scream at her to move to her sister and keep her safe. Lance sighed before standing and making his way back to his chair. Without warning, the lion’s body rocked from side to side and shivered as Blue stood on shaky metal legs. Shiro felt under him that her legs were moving methodically and felt each small jolt as paws hit the earth. Blue was moving, and she was nearing the crater where Black had landed.

“She’s happy to do it, y’know,” Lance said, interrupting Shiro’s thoughts. “She wants to be by Black too.”

Shiro stayed silent, letting Lance talk. His voice was calming, much like the oceans he talked about.

“I’m sure I’d feel the same way she does if my brother Marco got hurt,” Lance continued. “He and I were always the closest of my siblings. He turned out to be a wicked soccer player, and would constantly ask me to play with him even after he almost broke my ankle by sliding across the grass directly into my leg. Mama made him lighten up after that.” Lance gave a small chuckle. “Gotta love the big bros.”

Lance fell into a wistful silence as Blue slowly made her way to Black, walking clearly draining her of strength. Shiro admired this lion with every fiber of his being.

“I never had a brother,” Shiro said quietly. Lance looked back as though shocked he’d said anything at all, but then turned to the dashboard again as he listened. “I had two sisters,” Shiro murmured. “Himari and Jazmine. I never played soccer, but I did learn how to properly apply quite a bit of makeup after the many makeovers Himari would subject me to.”

It took almost all of Lance’s willpower not to point to Shiro’s eyeliner and shout that he called it.

“We had to rely on each other,” Shiro said sadly, his tone darkening. “My step-father was…not a father to me. He was no honorable husband. Jazmine, Himari, and I were his main targets once we were born, and my mother could only ever slide by and stop him from hurting us by the skin of her nose. There were too many close calls, and Mama sent Himari and Jazmine to live with my grandfather. They were happy there. A year later I left for the Garrison.”

Silence rang throughout the cockpit as Blue reached her destination and, exhausted, fell to the ground in a heap next to Black’s corpse. Both Shiro and Lance heard her moan of despair after seeing Black’s state. Lance let her rest, moving to sit by Shiro again as Blue’s eyes went dark and the world outside was shrouded in black. “Guess we could’ve waited to transport everything until the lions were close to each other, huh?” he said in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.

Shiro laughed lightly until a resonating pain stabbed in his side. He groaned in distress, clinging to his ribcage. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from the bandages Lance had applied. A cold chill settled in his gut as he realized the danger he was in. Not only could this easily get infected with some space bacteria he didn’t know about, but an excess of blood loss could easily mean Lance would be taking a body back to the castle. As he thought this, he felt Lance laying him on his side on the small bunk, unwrapping the gauze and grabbing a salve that stung like the devil but ultimately reduced the swelling.

“Shiro,” Lance began. “What if the castle can’t find us? The Galra are probably still in the atmosphere waiting for us to die so they can take the lions with ease.”

Shiro’s blood felt like ice as he caught the truth of that statement. Now that he thought about it, it was exceedingly strange to him that no purple aliens had come aboard the injured and weakened lions. He almost preferred an ambush. At least then they weren’t sitting ducks and could actually do something about fighting back and getting home. Although wouldn't taking two Voltron paladins hostage boost the chances of a single Galran becoming leader now that Zarkon was gone?

“Allura will find us,” Shiro muttered weakly. “I know she will.”

Lance looked unsure. “What if they’re too late?”

Shiro reached out and placed a hand gently on the boy's. “We’re going to be fine.” Lance’s hand felt so warm against his. Shiro noticed it was smooth and unblemished, much unlike his that were calloused and scarred. He tightened his grip, unsure as to why Lance seemed to be such a soothing presence. Lance squeezed back, sitting on the floor and leaning his back on the cot.

“Blue says she can keep us warm for the night,” Lance said. “It’ll keep you from getting sick on top of everything else.”

“Tell her I appreciate it,” Shiro replied, finally beginning to give in to his weariness.

“Shiro?” Lance asked after a few moments of silence. Shiro grunted in response. “Please tell me you’ll wake up…”

Shiro opened an eye and was met with the scared tears on Lance’s cheeks. “I promise, kiddo,” he said. “It’ll take more than this to take me out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. In fact - ” Shiro cut himself off as he forced his aching body back against the cool cockpit walls. He lifted the other end of the blanket as high as his arm could manage, beckoning Lance to join him.

“I won’t fit, Shiro,” Lance scolded, a small smile on his face.

Shiro didn’t budge.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said as he shimmied under the thin blanket. The cot was so little that his chest was flush against Shiro’s and he could feel the older man’s heartbeat reverberating through his own chest. He heard it begin to slow as Shiro fell into a deep sleep, and Blue purred reassurances in his mind that she would be ok. Warm and content, Lance wrapped an arm around Shiro and slept.

_____

Shiro awoke to the feeling of being prodded in the cheek. Groaning slightly, he shifted his head to see the panicked face of Lance in front of him.

“Shiro,” Lance whispered. “You need to stay silent but you need to move.”

“Lance?” Shiro whispered back. “What’s going on?”

Lance placed a hand on his side to avoid Shiro jumping up but held it there to assist in turning him on his side. His blue armor was glowing, and his bayard was activated.

“The Galra,” he hissed. “They picked up on the Blue Lion’s signature. I don’t know how they didn’t manage to do it before, but they’ll be here any minute. I guess they got tired of waiting for one of us to bite it.”

Shiro then moved Lance’s hand, sitting up gingerly. Lance began giving him his armor piece by piece, cringing outwardly each time his hand brushed against something red and dry. Shiro’s side screamed as he added more pieces and bent and twisted in order to secure them on the flight suit he was sleeping in. He figured his jaw would be sore tomorrow with how hard he was clenching his teeth to stop any noises from escaping. He would tell that Lance was trying not to panic, but at the same time had the desperate look in his eyes that told Shiro he didn’t want to rush him but they needed to move.

Shiro stood and gripped his injured side, his arm emitting a faint purple glow in the darkness around them as it powered to life. According to Blue’s indicators, night had fallen. Lance grabbed Shiro’s hand and led him out of the cockpit. They slowly made their way out of the lion’s jaw behind her large teeth, using the dark as cover as they shut off the teal lights of their armor. Shiro forced himself to move quickly, despite his wound’s protests. Groaning swears under his breath, he followed Lance as they trekked as far from Blue’s mouth as they could. They began hearing the sound of pounding footsteps as they reached her hind paws, and resolved themselves to stay hidden for the time being in the shadows of the metal structure. This solution wasn’t anywhere near a good one, but it would give them time to come up with some sort of plan.

“It doesn’t sound like there are many of them,” Lance whispered. “I’ll take out as many as I can before they reach us.”

Shiro nodded. “I’ll take care of the close range,” he agreed.

“Can your side handle that?”

“It’ll have to.”

The two paladins moved to defensive stances, with Lance further back and to the side enough to see any oncoming enemies. Shiro jumped as the first blue flash sent bullets toward an approaching mass of Galrans. His arm powered up, the hand sending a purple haze through the night and turning the blue sand a strange indigo. He counted around seven soldiers coming toward them, but he knew that even seven wasn’t anything to mess with. Lance was valiant and almost disturbingly accurate with his aim.

But it wasn’t enough to hold all of them off. Galrans were tricky little bastards and could withstand multiple shots before ultimately going down. Before long, Shiro found himself grappling with sharp claws and flying fur. The lights given off by armor and his prosthetic blazed around them, and he saw Lance switching his bayard to a small blue dagger. The boy was definitely holding his own, and Shiro was confident he would be ok for the time being. Besides, he had to worry about the fact that a soldier had just thrust its talons into his side wound.

Shiro screamed.

He heard Lance’s sharp cry of despair as he saw what became of his leader, and felt through the ground that the blue paladin was desperately fighting and clamoring to get to Shiro. The Japanese man forced his torso upward, throwing off the Galra pinning him down and blasting his arm through the abdomen. He hated the disgusting squelch that resounded and echoed around them. Ripping his now blood-covered arm from the body, he whipped around to see Lance’s bayard lying on the ground. It felt as though antifreeze flooded his system as he saw Lance being dragged by two of the soldiers back to the Galra cruiser waiting in front of Blue’s nose.

Shiro pushed off the sand, sprinting with all of his remaining strength to Lance and tackling the Galra on the right to the ground. Powering up his arm, he reached it back to administer a killing blow before feeling a burn on his left shoulder. Fire was racing through his muscles, rendering the arm entirely useless as the waves of electricity licked further into his core. He cried out, weakening and allowing the Galran to flip them over and shackle his wrists to his back. The prosthetic was dark now, Shiro not having the necessary power to keep it active.

“Originally we just wanted the blue one,” the cat alien hissed in his ear. “But you’ll do nicely too. Haggar will be happy to know we’re bringing back her Champion.”

__________

Lance’s head was pounding as he slowly opened his eyes. Glancing around, he saw a small dimming floodlight that cast an eerie white glow around the concrete cell floor he was lying on. Maneuvering his body up to a sitting position, he glanced back and saw chains keeping him by the back wall. Leave it to the Galra to be original. As Lance’s consciousness came back fully, he noticed a lack of a certain black paladin. He frowned in concern, assessing the rest of the situation. He most likely had a severely injured wrist, if the flaring pulses were anything to go by, and possibly a concussion. He hoped the latter wasn’t true since he wasn’t exactly the most medically-savvy paladin.

He attempted to move to his knees, but the short chains kept him from leaning any higher than cross-legged against the dark metal. He huffed in frustration. Looking down, he saw he was wearing the prisoner outfit Shiro had been found in all those months ago. He stuck his nose up in distaste, purple really not being his color. He didn’t want to think of how many prisoners died in this specific uniform, and tried not to focus on what he knew was dried blood covering the back of the lighter garment.

He stretched his shoulders back in an attempt to loosen his still joints, but it did nothing. As he thought to himself that he was thoroughly fucked, heavy footsteps approached the cell door. He cringed at the loud, shrill squeak that resounded around him as the guard opened the gate.

“Little Double-D40 should fix that right up for ya,” Lance said sarcastically.

The Galran glared at him.

“Hey man,” Lance went on. “Just tryna’ help.”

The alien came toward him, and Lance had just enough will power to shut the hell up. Yellow eyes burned into blue, and without warning, Lance was yanked from the wall. The Galran grabbed at the loose chains and began dragging the paladin out of the room.

“I can walk, y’know,” Lance hissed.

“Not for long.”

Lance’s teeth chattered as a shiver ran through him. Still, he was slightly enjoying seeing the Galran squirm.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Lance asked cheekily.

The Galran stopped. “Your voice is irritating,” he snarled, turning to look at Lance.

“Thank you,” Lance replied simply.

Lance had no preparation for the steel-toed boot that rammed into his side, probably bruising a kidney, and the breath came rushing out of him in an instant. The Galran continued walking and Lance didn’t try to speak anymore, now much more focused on where the hell he was being taken.


	6. Chapter 6

“Allura, have we repaired the teladuv in the castle?”

The princess turned to Keith with exhausted eyes, standing at her post in the control room. “Unfortunately not,” she murmured. “Coran is working on it now. The damage taken from being hit point-blank will take much longer than we thought to fix.”

“There has to be a way to at least wormhole closer to that planet!” Keith cried. “Shiro and Lance are down there!”

“I know, Keith,” Allura said. “But we cannot afford to wormhole even a small bit. Who knows how many Galra are waiting for us in that planet’s atmosphere? If the castle is out of power, we have no hopes of making it out.”

“Shiro and Lance might have it worse!” Keith replied. “The Galra must have captured them by now, and we can’t just leave them!”

“We will not leave them helpless,” Allura said definitively. “Coran is working day and night to repair the glass plates needed to travel that far of a distance. I will alert you paladins immediately when that moment comes. Until then, Pidge and Hunk are working with the information their lions gathered to track the path of the Galra.”

“How can you act so nonchalant?” Keith growled. “Our family is down there!”

“I am not uncaring!” Allura shouted back suddenly. Keith flinched before he could help himself. “I know how it is to lose your family,” Allura muttered, looking forward to her small star map with a distant expression. “I will not let it happen again. I will give my life before I allow either Shiro or Lance to be killed.”

Keith had the respect to stay silent, knowing she was right. “Sorry,” he mumbled quietly. “I know how hard it is for you. I’m just worried.”

“I know you are,” Allura said, closing her eyes. “You have every right to be. It was not right for me to snap at you.”

Even as she said that Keith noticed the unmistakable hitch in her voice and the almost invisible clench of her hands. Without replying, he made his way up the small steps to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder awkwardly. She sniffed, and he stiffened. He wasn't great at handling emotional situations in any capacity, especially like this. He decided to leave it to instinct and let her take the lead, letting her lean on him as she cried for their lost paladins.

________

Shiro woke up entirely confused as to why it felt like he was in a sauna. Sweat poured down his temples, and he made to brush it away but found he was unable to move his arms.

“He wakes.”

His eyes swiveled almost painfully upward toward the source of the voice, seeing a bone-thin Galra staring back at him. Her ears were shredded to pieces, and she was missing patches of fur. One eye was gone and replaced with an eyepatch as a crude coverup. Shiro gulped subconsciously. He tried to open his mouth to ask who she was and what he was doing here but discovered quickly it sent waves of pain across his face.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” the Galran murmured, revealing a chipped incisor. She reached a hand down, touching his cheek in a disgusting mockery of being gentle. “With what you’re injected with, any movement is going to be excruciating.”

Shiro turned his eyebrows upward, trying to ignore the sting it caused.

“Eiletoxa,” she said as if that word meant anything to Shiro. “It’s a type of slow-working poison we're experimenting with. It’ll cause pain to any extremity that attempts to make a movement, as it targets the nerves. It’ll wear off, but not quickly enough for you, I’m sure.”

Shiro grit his teeth, moving as little as possible. He hated being vulnerable in front of this creature, but he couldn’t deny the severity of the pain coursing through him with each heartbeat. His neck especially felt like fire due to his jugular pulsing with each beat. He wanted nothing more than to clench his fists for a distraction but found it entirely useless. His right arm had been forcefully powered off, and his left was racked with agony. The Galran grinned.

“Maybe we’ll throw you back into the arena with this shit in your veins,” she snarled. Shiro’s eyes widened, pinpricks of pain traveling to his temples at the movement.

“While we wait,” the Galran went on, moving around the room to mess with knobs and buttons, none of which comforted the black paladin. “We should have some fun.” She pulled out a large needle from inside a sterile drawer, testing on her finger how sharp it was. Approaching Shiro, she brought it up to his neck, and Shiro felt the hair on his neck stand up as the sharp point grew closer.

“Rem, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” a new voice shouted. Rem jerked away from Shiro, hiding the syringe behind her almost comically. The newcomer wasn’t convinced or impressed.

“Put that back,” she growled in a low voice. Once in Shiro’s line of sight, he saw she was a darker purple hue than Rem, with two large ears and a silver mohawk of sorts running down her neck and starting on the top of her nose. Her broad shoulders made Shiro want to shiver. “You know she wants him alive and strong, you idiot.”

Rem looked almost guilty, averting her eyes from the new Galran’s.

“Rem,” the new one hissed. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, Kajfra,” Rem murmured. “I was ordered to keep him here. I figured if he could not move, he could not leave.”

“The fuck was in that syringe?!” Kajfra yowled, making Shiro flinch and grit his teeth against the pain.

“A tiny dose of Eilatoxa, it’s nothing to poof your fur over!” Rem yelled back, clenching her fist around the needle. “It would have been fun to see what a full dose would have done to him!”

Shiro tried not to think about it.

“He’s human, you imbecile!” Kajfra snarled. “It’s more potent on them than it is on us! His system is small and weak! You have no idea how much damage you could have caused him!”

“How was I supposed to know?!” Rem countered back. “No one told me anything! I was only supposed to watch him, and anyone has yet to show up in a timely manner anyway!”

They stopped their screaming match as a male Galran entered the room. “That’s enough!” he hissed. Grabbing Rem by the arm, he yanked her out of the room as she kicked and screeched, spouting words that Shiro didn’t really want to know the translation of. Next to him, Kajfra let out a sigh, shaking her head slowly as she looked back down to him.

“The Eilatoxa will wear off,” she said gruffly. “Don’t move until it does. Rem is a fool. All she has done is delayed the process.”

Shiro simply blinked. His survival instincts told him not to keep his eyes closed, despite the pain in front of his eyes that the Eilatoxa's poison was causing.

“In any case, I shall return soon,” Kajfra muttered, shutting off the industrial lights that had been blinding Shiro, leaving him to try and desperately blink away the green hues left behind as he fought back against the scream in his throat. He heard the door at his feet open, close, and lock with a sickening click. He breathed slowly, assessing his situation. As his brain caught up, he began to piece the events together chronologically. Somehow, he had been brought to this room; this table. Rem had injected him with poison, which she should not have. Kajfra was a superior, and she had just left him alone.

Shiro decided being alone was worse.

Everything was dark with those lights off, and Shiro was incredibly put off by it. His fingers twitched involuntarily, sending waves of fiery pain up his arms. Damn this Eilatoxa. He found that the most manageable movement he could do right now was rotate his eyes in their sockets. It proved pointless, of course, as he was surrounded by a soul - encompassing darkness. He finally gave in to the fact that he should just lie back, try to relax as much as possible, and wait.

He was left with his thoughts, overwhelmed by the thought of Lance.


	7. Chapter 7

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Lance was afraid of the dark. His brother, Marco, had instilled a deep nervousness when Lance was young. He would sit in their shared room and wait for Lance to get home from school to jump out from under the covers and scare the pants off his little brother. Ever since then, Lance found himself wary of dark spaces, as though Marco would be waiting in the corner to freak him out. Right now, of course, was no exception. It wasn’t Marco he was afraid of this time, but the Galrans that pulled him to this cell in the first place. Of course he would never admit it out loud, but the idea of seeing them again made his blood run cold. He didn’t know what they wanted, and he really wasn’t keen on finding out.

His main goal right now was escaping and finding Shiro.

Lance pulled at the chains binding his wrists together, testing the length he had to walk away from where they were attached to the wall. He surprised himself when he was able to nearly reach the metal door. If he laid on the floor and stretched, his feet may even reach the small sliver of purple light shining from underneath. Lance hated purple. The blue paladin shifted backward so he could have enough chain to properly stand. He felt the ceiling of the cell brush the tips of his hair, and couldn’t force down the shudder at the intense claustrophobia that pulsed through him.

Pushing the fear down, he began a mantra in his head, asking himself what Shiro would do in this scenario. He would most likely assess, then act. So, Lance began walking around his cell, counting the number of steps it took to reach the far wall. After about five rounds of re-checking his number, he settled on the length of his prison being about twenty steps. The width, or, at least, how far the chain would let him go perpendicular to the back wall, was about fifteen steps. Ultimately, not as small as he originally thought, but certainly not ideal.

The silence was overpowering. Lance took to tapping his foot against the floor to the beat of an old Hawaiian song he heard Hunk humming to himself in the Garrison enough times to have memorized. The thought of Hunk was comforting but reminded Lance harshly of the lack of food in the tiny enclosure. What he wouldn’t give even for the Paladins’ Breakfast, not that he'd ever admit to it out loud.

A few moments later, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud, jarring metal screech as the cell door opened. Dim violet washed over Lance, causing him to blink away the lack of pitch blackness his eyes had gotten used to. The silhouettes of two large Galra stood in the doorway, and the blue paladin knew he only had seconds to assess what was going on. He flicked his gaze to the belts they wore, noting the small pistols that hung from each side. As his arm was grabbed, he saw multiple knives of all shapes and sizes as well. He wasn’t Keith, but he hoped he’d know instinctively how to use them when the time came. Now, however, was the opportunity to observe.

“Come,” the larger Galra hissed. His voice was like poison honey, sending chills down Lance’s spine.

“Where?” Lance squeaked, unnerved enough not to try and think up some witty quip.

“You’ll see soon enough,” the cat growled, grinning from ear to ear. The other soldier behind Lance pushed him forward with the gun against his spine after removing the paladin's chains. Lance’s shaky legs began moving forward, having a fair amount of difficulty not collapsing from fear. He swallowed dryly.

Winding halls and bright purple lights disoriented Lance to the point that he didn’t have any idea how long the three had been walking, much less where in the hell he was. After what Lance could only assume was about five minutes or so, the Galra in front of him stopped, causing Lance to nearly bump into him. Opening large steel doors with a crank, the creature behind Lance pushed the muzzle of the pistol harder into his back, shoving Lance forward into the dark room. The doors shut with a thundering bang behind him. As he looked around and tried to get used to being in the dark once more, he heard shuffling and grunting in the corners of the room.

“Hello?” he called softly.

He was met with a frightened gasp.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Lance assured. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“You are…human,” a raspy voice responded.

“Y-yes,” Lance replied. “I’m a paladin of Voltron.”

Whoever or whatever had spoken shuffled forward and Lance noticed she vaguely resembled a coyote. Metal glinted from her body, making Lance question if she was some kind of android.

“Voltron?” she asked quietly, coming up to the paladin. Up close, Lance saw she was thin and looked ill.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m sure Voltron is on its way. I can get you guys out of here when they arrive.”

Expecting relieved sighs, Lance was confused when the coyote, as well as the other surrounding prisoners, backed away from him, the coyote shaking her head.

“They cannot help us,” a voice called from the dark.

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, slowly sitting on the concrete floor. Through it, he could feel as her cybernetic paws padded around the room.

“No one has been able to before,” she murmured. “Many have tried, all have failed.” The soft whispers soon faded into silence as the feelings of despair hung heavy like a blanket. Lance swallowed nervously.

“Wh-what do they do to you here?” he questioned, hating the shake in his voice.

“They send us to fight,” another voice cut in before the coyote could answer. The creature that came forth looked surprisingly human, simply with antennae and a long spiked tail. “We have lost many.”

“What do you mean, fight?”

Before Lance could receive an answer, the back cage door opened with a screech. Each prisoner backed away quickly, leaving Lance, confused, blinking in the sudden glaring light.

“You. Human.” A raspy voice snarled.

Lance was tugged to his feet, the claws around his bicep digging into his skin. His sense of balance was thrown completely off when he was physically tossed onto a hard, sandy surface. Crouching on all fours and spitting sand, he shook the fog from his head as the same screech sounded behind him. The door had closed, trapping Lance in this hellish landscape. Finally turning his eyes upward, Lance saw he was kneeling in a large sandy area only broken up by four large steel pillars holding up what looked like a clear forcefield of some sort. A large sword-type weapon had been thrown next to him. His blood ran cold.

Across the arena, the same screech of a cell door sounded, quickly giving way to silence as onlookers grinned in anticipation. Standing on shaking legs, Lance stepped between two of the pillars in order to gain a better grasp of what he was up against.

He was faced with the largest beast he’d ever seen that wasn’t a Robeast or the Balmera. Large and furry, it had the appearance of a love child between the Cheshire cat and a gecko dipped in radioactive biohazard. Lance’s spine was immediately chilled by the grin it wore, its eyes gazing into the paladin’s soul. The thin clothing covering Lance’s shoulders gave away how much he was shaking, despite doing his best to keep his face and posture composed. He held the weapon in both hands, although he knew its weight wouldn’t do much to help him. Breathing heavily, the Cheshire bounded forward toward Lance, shocking him out of his awe. Ducking, he rolled on the sand and scrambled to get back up as the creature backpedals and twisted in a way that no animal should be able to. It’s spine looked as though it were made of liquid, allowing it to move however fast and however agile it wanted. Lance braced his feet, one against a pillar behind him, raising his weapon to his chest in a defensive stance as the creature barreled toward him yet again, head down and grin wide.

It felt like a freight train as it slammed into Lance’s chest, the weapon seemingly not affecting it at all. The blade dug into its shoulder with a horrible squelch, making Lance flinch despite himself. Growing desperate, Lance pushed back with the energy he could find by using his foot as leverage, shoving the creature to the side and yanking the blade out of it. Gripping it tighter, he nearly dropped it when the handle grew slippery. The creature stood again, although this time its gait was wobbly and uncertain. It eyed Lance now with wary eyes.

Lance, panting, felt his heart racing. Running out of energy in his lion was one thing, but here he was forced to rely on training and focus on breathing as much as he could. He and the creature circled each other slowly, both growling under their breath. Lance’s muscles tensed, preparing for the inevitable impact when he was rushed yet again. Barely lifting the weapon in time, he only nicked the Cheshire’s face as it predicted his movements and ducked at the last moment. What Lance had not anticipated was the jaws of the creature to open, showing rows of sharpened teeth, and clamp down on his upper leg.

Lance screeched, jerking back instinctively and driving the dagger-like canines deeper into his flesh. Purely running on fight-or-flight, he raised the weapon as high as he could force his arms, bringing it down immediately on the back of the creature’s neck.

The creature yowled, opening its maw and releasing Lance’s leg. As the paladin fell back and began frantically moving backward, the Cheshire crumpled, falling limp and dead on the sand as its blood flooded the arena. Lance found his breath coming in short gasps as he watched the lifeforce drain from its glassy eyes. The Galrans sitting in the stands were going wild, and Lance couldn’t hear any of what the announcer was saying over the ringing in his ears. The next thing he knew, his vision was fading from pain and fatigue as two soldiers came in to grab him under the arms and drag him back into the hallway. Turning his head, he saw the coyote creature and her group watching him go by with a sad yet knowing look in her eyes.

It felt as though it was only a moment later when he was blinking his eyes open wearily, lightly blinded by harsh white and violet light directly above him.

“He wakes,” an unfamiliar voice rasped. Lance immediately shivered.

“Good,” a female voice answered. “Summon Haggar.”

Lance’s blood ran cold.

“Yes, Kajfra.”

The female Galra, Kajfra, puttered around the small room, moving things and inspecting instruments. She glanced down at Lance, narrowing her eyes.

“You are human, yes?”

Lance, not expecting to be spoken to, much less asked a question, opened his mouth and closed it.

“You are,” Kajfra muttered. “The other did the same when I first saw him.”

Lance’s eyes widened, and he tried to speak. He found he couldn’t open his lips and his vocal cords refused to listen to his brain’s commands.

“Don’t try to speak,” she continued. “You’ve been given a physical sedative. You’re aware, but effectively paralyzed.” At Lance’s sudden panicked look, she added: “You can breathe, don’t worry. We’ve got a breathing apparatus put in your lungs for the time being. Wouldn’t do us any good to have you die on the table before Haggar even gets here.”

The moment she said that Lance saw a flash of dark purple and black in the center of the room and, despite not being able to feel his limbs, felt the shock of a sudden temperature decrease around him.

“The Blue Paladin.”

Lance shut his eyes tight as though this were some sort of terrible dream that he could wake up from. He wanted to scream when he felt Haggar’s hands on the sides of his head.

“You’ll do just fine,” she said. Lance could physically hear the grin in her voice. “He’s been administered the drug?”

“Yes, Haggar,” the female voice said.

“Good.”

Lance felt the hands leave his face and heard Haggar’s cloak swishing across the floor. He knew she had gone when the temperature rose and more bustling began around him. Although he couldn’t feel his limbs, he noticed a slight pressure on the leg that had been wounded and he couldn’t help feeling a bit grateful that he couldn’t feel it directly.

“I know you think you can’t feel much,” the Kajfra said suddenly, bringing Lance out of his stupor. “But this is gonna hurt.”

Before Lance could even try to process what that meant, the pressure against his upper thigh increased and began feeling hot. Too hot. Much too hot, oh God. Lance thought he wasn’t supposed to feel anything! The deeper the heat went, the more he realized the paralyzing effect of whatever drug he’d been given didn’t permeate all the way through and the pain was starting to reach nerves that were still entirely functioning. He couldn’t help the groan that left his throat as his vision started fading in and out. He thought he heard Kajfra giving him small words of encouragement for a moment, but it must have just been the haze of agony making Lance hear things. Before he could think further, his eyes closed and he knew no more as exhaustion and strain put an end to his conscious state.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the warship, Shiro was panicking. He’d awoken back in his cell, alone. He felt the last traces of Eilotoxin in his system as pins and needles raced through his body slowly. Propping himself up on his elbows for a moment, he looked around to take note of his surroundings. It was dark, cold, and he was hungry.

Wonderful.

Lowering himself again and gritting his teeth against the small shocks of pain racking his system, he wondered where Lance could have been taken and how he would get to him. Despite how advanced the Galra had become, the soldiers they sent to check on him once every hour were slightly less than intelligent, only doing their job and shoving a food tray under the door. Shiro despised the “food” they gave him but knew it was worth it to stomach it so he would have the necessary strength to escape and rescue himself and Lance. For now, however, he was content to rest and purge the final toxins from his system. It would give him time to think and plan.

Shiro’s heart was pounding in his chest. Judging by the number of times food had been given to him, almost two days had passed. He hoped the Galra didn’t suddenly switch up prisoner protocol, as two days was pushing it as far as how long he wanted to wait and observe without making a move. He was beginning to go stir-crazy, having paced the length of his cell more times than he could keep track of. He rarely slept, although that wasn’t necessarily anything new. Ever since he’d found his way back to Voltron, his headaches kept him up at night. He had attempted a few times to use his hand either to burn through the bars of the sorry excuse of a window or destroy the back wall. Neither worked, as he quickly found out they’d disabled the power he held somehow.

His only thought now was on Lance. Had he been subjected to the Eilatoxin? He thought he heard screaming, but in this place that wasn’t exactly a rarity and the man tried to convince himself that it didn’t sound familiar. His physical helplessness gnawed at him, tearing him from the inside out. He found himself resolving to throw his body against the cell door, snarling and glaring daggers at any guard that passed. In the back of his mind, he wondered to himself why he was being so reckless, but his thoughts of worry toward Lance blocked them out each time.

Between fitful sleep and scattered “meals,” Shiro sat in the back of his cell and plotted. His hand was disabled, so it would be of no use to him aside from a blunt object. Luckily, his Garrison training didn’t take into account a glowing, burning arm as a benefit in training. Even if Voltron training sessions did, he was sure to also practice with his arm tied behind his back in order to prepare for situations such as these. He never thought he’d praise the day Allura made them practice extra.

It took ages, it seemed, for the next round of food to come. His legs were beginning to grow stiff from crouching near the door opposite of where the guard would be approaching. They always came in from the left, meaning Shiro could easily keep himself hidden enough to the right. The moment the food slot opened, his metallic arm shot out at a speed that put bullets to shame. Clutching the Galra’s arm with intense ferocity, he began squeezing. He listened and felt for the telltale crunch of bone under his fingers as he increased pressure on the creature’s wrist.

The hair on his neck rose at the sharp screech the Galra let out as his wrist was broken, shouting profanities in Galran that Shiro only had a vague recollection of translation for.

“Tell me where the blue paladin is, and I’ll release my hand!” Shiro growled.

“Never!” the soldier hissed back.

Shiro increased the pressure against the furry wrist in his grasp. “Tell me!”

Red overtook his vision as the soldier refused again. He pulled at the wrist, seemingly disconnecting from his own body. He thought he heard someone calling his name, but it was drowned out by the roaring of blood in his ears. The next thing he knew, things were quiet. The cell was dark, and he felt wetness against his arms. Looking down, he saw the telltale deep maroon lit up by the purple lights of the hallway. Backing away from the now almost unrecognizable arm, his eyes widened as he realized he didn’t remember the past couple of minutes.

Having blacked out, he didn’t remember crushing the guard’s skull against the door from the inside. Before he could help himself, he leaned over and vomited, stomach acid mixing with the bloodstains that now covered the floor.

_______

Lance had always been a light sleeper. Having grown up in a large family, he couldn’t afford to sleep in too late and miss breakfast. If you didn’t eat quickly, you didn’t eat. Therefore, it was no surprise when he awoke exhausted after only an hour of sleep. Groaning in pain under his breath, he tried to lift himself with his elbows but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Without warning, a burning agony flooded his system, starting at his thigh and running up the length of his torso.

“I wouldn’t move just yet,” a voice said suddenly, slightly drawing Lance out of his misery. The same female Galra as before stood over him, a holo-pad in her hand.

All Lance could do was aim a questioning glare her way.

Kajfra grinned. “Haggar really had a go at you, huh?”

Lance’s blood ran cold.

“You were out like a light,” the Galra went on. “The witch made damn sure that modification isn't going anywhere anytime soon.”

The blue paladin could do nothing more than stare with wide eyes. Modification? Kajfra must have seen the question in the way his face scrunched in thought, as she put the holo-pad down and crouched next to him as he stared at her from the uncomfortable cot.

“Listen, kiddo,” she began. “I know all of this sucks ass right now. I know it hurts. But you’ll learn to block it out. You’ll learn to get used to the modifications we gave you. You’ll learn to please Haggar.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, now having more questions than answers.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, you have no idea, do you?” Her eyes seemed to soften. “Look down.”

Lance didn’t want to, but he forced the painful movement of his neck, directing his eyes downward. Where his leg was, he saw an angry red scar running up to his hip. Where the agony in his thigh began, the thigh itself ended. Briefly, he saw the creature tearing into his leg and remembered it going numb for a while. Now he knew why.

In its place lay a silver, metallic, mechanical leg.


	8. Chapter 8

Lance felt numb. He knew he should feel shocked, maybe angry. It was as if his brain didn’t have the capacity anymore for those emotions. Perhaps he was trying to shelter himself from further mental strain, but whatever the case was, he felt as though he was looking down upon himself. No longer was he in his body...his now broken, dismembered body. He found himself trying to move his mechanical toes, but they wouldn’t budge.

“It has yet to be calibrated to your nervous system,” Kajfra said. Why did she sound apologetic?

Lance turned to look at her slowly, his eyes wide and slightly distant. The Galran woman sighed. Lance thought he could almost see a hint of remorse in the gaze she sent back at him, but it was gone before he could be sure. She stood, leaning over to rest her mauve hand on the metal. Lance didn’t feel it. He did, however, feel the exact moment he began shaking against his will.

“Once it’s been connected to your brainwaves,” Kajfra began. “It’ll move as a normal leg should. It will, of course, have enhancements. Speed, flexibility, leaping…”

Her voice faded out as Lance’s eyesight began drifting. Black appeared around the edges as he fought to keep breathing and stay conscious. He couldn’t pinpoint why. Without warning, something that smelled unnatural and strange was pressed against his mouth. Sucking in a deep breath, he could taste a small hint of a metallic substance. As his sight returned slowly, he saw that Kajfra had placed a metallic inhaler to his face. When she felt Lance had enough, she pulled it away and put it back on the small operating table next to her. Lance’s eyes followed its movements, and he nearly gagged when he noticed traces of deep red on the utensil tray.

“Can’t have you passing out on me,” Kajfra said.

“Why…?” was all Lance was able to get out.

The woman crouched next to his head to be at his eye level. “Listen, kid,” she said. “That Durhyai got your leg pretty good. If Haggar didn’t get to it first, it would have had to be removed anyway.” She lowered herself to sit on the ground. “Thing is, you’re what she wants. I don’t know why, and I don’t want to know; it’s not my problem. My job is to watch you and your friend and make sure neither of you makes a break for it.”

“Shiro?” Lance said immediately. “He’s here? He’s alive?”

“Here? Yes,” Kajfra replied. “Alive? I can’t say. Haven’t seen him for the past few days. I saved him from that dumbass Rem that flooded his system with Eilotoxin.”

Lance lifted a brow in confusion.

“Rem's a new recruit; a child by human standards,” Kajfra explained. “If you ask me, she’s a fuckin’ moron, but she does her job well enough that she sticks around. But ‘Shiro,’ as you call him, was moved to the south complex, last I heard.” She smirked. “Not that you’ll be able to do anything about that; until your leg gets activated, you’re a sitting duck and my company for the foreseeable future.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Lance demanded.

“Come on, boy. Do you really think I’ve got anything better to do?” Kajfra hissed. “This stuff is vague, anyway. You’d’ve figured it out on your own in due time, but I’ll get bored of dancing around the subject of the metal attached to you. I’m saving myself time more than anything.”

Lance huffed, turning his head to look at the ceiling as he let his torso fall back onto the table. “Why did you say Shiro’s name as if you’ve never heard it before? What did you mean by ‘as you call him’?”

Kajfra stayed silent. Lance once again turned his eyes to her, instantly unnerved by the unblinking stare she was aiming his way. Considering there was no way for him to attempt escape, Lance decided to start looking around the room, as it gave him an excuse to not be pinned by those golden eyes. Kajfra didn't seem bothered. Nothing seemed useful to him anyway. His bayard was gone, as well as his armor, and his black tracksuit would do nothing for him in the way of defense. Lance looked downward to finally take in the sight of his new leg.

It was made of solid metal, resembling Shiro’s arm uncannily well. Most of it was silver and muted grey, but had careful lines of purple running the length of it, almost like paths of electricity were flowing through the leg itself. The paladin found himself slightly grateful that the structure of the leg and foot were as close to accurate as they could be when compared to his natural leg. At least he still had a foot, he supposed. Overall it looked disastrously out of place, and terrifyingly similar to Shiro’s arm. As much as he found it to be badass on the body of his hero, he could never have seen himself with such a prosthetic. With a sick feeling, Lance realized that maybe Shiro's prosthetic on its own wasn't as "cool" as he'd once thought.

Lance leaned his head back against the sorry excuse of a pillow under his neck and tried desperately to ignore the burning itch and the creeping, dull ache in his thigh as he waited for his brain to start recognizing the newly added nerves. Soon, visions of hallways flashed before him as his consciousness fell in and out, as well as a sharp prick in the general spot where his knee once was. He vaguely felt himself being moved and jerked around before finally coming to after being shoved into a dark room. A small paw-like appendage rested on his shoulder to steady him.

Opening his eyes, Lance saw the kind coyote woman from before crouching over him. Her eyes held a sort of kindness that Lance had not seen in what felt like forever. How could she keep such an attitude in a place like this? Lifting his torso up on his elbows, the paladin couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ended up back here. As though sensing his thoughts, the canine sat back and eyed him carefully. “You have yet to heal fully. You were brought here to wait.”

“Wait for what?” Lance couldn’t help but ask. He couldn’t remember ever truly falling asleep.

She shook her head, staying silent.

“I can’t just sit here,” Lance said, making a move to stand. “I need to find Shi-aah!” Blazing hot pain shot through his hip, causing it to buckle beneath him. “Ahhh…” he groaned. “Fuck.”

“Be cautious,” the coyote said. “You likely will not be traveling anytime soon. Your friend will be alright.”

“How do you know?” Lance hissed, partly furious with himself for not being able to simply stand.

“He is The Champion.”

Lance stopped. “...you know about that?”

The creatures in front of him stirred, a ripple of movement accompanied by a chorus of anxious whispers.

“Everyone does,” the woman replied. “The Champion is legend. If a simple human can last as long in the arena, anyone can.”

Lance knew he should probably feel offended, but his emotions were overwhelmed with sudden pride. His cheeks warmed as he thought about Shiro holding his own against the creatures sent out against him. His thoughts wandered to the look Shiro got in his eye when he knew a battle was won; to the sight of Shiro entirely focused on what was in front of him; to how his muscles rippled under his flight suit -

Whoa, whoa, reel it in.

Lance glanced up at the canine woman to see almost a knowing smirk on her face. She simply blinked.

Lance frowned and shook the thoughts from his head. “Who exactly are you?”

“My name is Tep,” the coyote said.

“How long have you been here? Why are you covered in robotic parts?”

Tep flinched, and Lance knew he’d hit a nerve. Quickly backtracking, he apologized. Tep shook her head, understanding where he was coming from.

“The same reason you have your leg,” she replied. “We are for entertainment and if we die, so do profits for the Galra.”

Lance looked down at his leg which was shining in the minimal lights surrounding him and the others. The metal was polished and gleaming and it made Lance sick. “So…” he began. “It’s to strengthen us for the arena?”

“Yes; just as the Champion received his arm.”

“He didn’t receive anything,” Lance said back. “It wasn’t some gift.”

“In the arena, it was,” Tep said quietly. Lance looked up at her. “Rumors spread,” she continued. “Without that arm, there were multiple times he wouldn’t have made it.”

Lance’s blood ran cold. He didn’t want to think about what exactly that meant.

“Had he not been given the weapon, he would have been considered expendable. The Galran race would plot his demise swiftly after seeing his physical state deteriorate.”

“So what do they want with me? I can’t be the replacement Champion, I’m just a kid!” Lance interjected swiftly. He was tired of hearing that Shiro could have easily perished.

Tep sighed. “I cannot say for sure. None of us can. Entertainment, I suppose.”

Just as her sentence trailed off, sudden light filled the room. Lance had to blink and squint as his eyes adjusted, glimpsing the silhouette of a large Galran soldier. Before he could process what was happening, his collar was grabbed by large claws that pulled him roughly upward. Biting back a gag, he was shoved forward on his feet toward the gate that was becoming too familiar for comfort. As Lance was pushed into the arena, he stumbled and hit the sand. A metal clank followed as the soldier threw the large mechanical sword next to him. Lance’s hand shook as he gripped it, remembering that Tep had claimed he still wasn't fully healed. He stood slowly and shakily. In front of him, the opposite gate creaked open.

A bipedal figure stepped out, standing straight and tall. Exuding an aura of dominance and purpose, it strode forward. Lance braced himself for the inevitable surge of speed this figure would likely have in just a moment’s time. What he didn’t expect was the bright violet glow of the creature’s right arm.

“Shiro?!”

Lance hardly got the word out of his mouth before Shiro bounded forward, his stupidly long legs offering him momentum toward the blue paladin. Ducking at the last minute, Lance wasn’t quick enough, letting out a yelp as 200 pounds crashed into him at full speed. Without thinking, Lance instinctively lowered his leg to the ground for balance. Realizing in a split second that it was his mech leg, he felt himself lose balance and thump to the sandy floor. Scrambling to his feet, Lance swore under his breath as his leg weighed him down. Shiro slid in the sand, gripping the floor below with his nails to slow himself down. Looking up at Lance with his legs braced and fingers in the dirt, he looked like a wild animal poised to strike.

“Shiro!” Lance screeched, backtracking as Shiro pounced.

Instinct took over, moving Lance’s legs for him. With his mech leg, Lance shoved upward and sent Shiro flying across the sand. He winced as he heard the thump of the other man hitting the ground. Shiro flipped from his back to his feet in a second and braced himself, panting heavily.

“Shiro, please!” Lance tried once more. “Snap out of it!”

The blue paladin shivered as he saw no recognition in the purple eyes staring back at him. Shiro began to circle Lance like a predator, taking in each subtle movement of Lance’s muscles as he turned along with him.

“What have they done to you?” Lance called out. No response, not that he was expecting one by this point anyway. Lance knew that the only way he would be able to confront Shiro alone was if and when the fight ended or the Galrans got bored. He would just have to last until then.

Shiro shifted. Lance sidestepped prematurely, tripping over his leg and giving Shiro and opportunity to fly forward and tackle Lance. Pain exploded as he landed directly on the scar from the explosion burn Lance saved Coran from all those months ago, forcing the breath from Lance’s lungs. Shoving at Shiro’s shoulders, Lance put his strength into getting Shiro the hell off of him. He knew his leader had a drastic advantage over him and he could already see Shiro’s eyes flicking back and forth as he assessed Lance’s body for any weaknesses. They settled on his leg.

“Shiro, don’t-!”

Lance didn’t have time to finish his plea before Shiro planted a foot on the leg and pressed down. Lance shrieked as blinding pain flooded his system, starting at the leg’s connecting point and ending behind his eyes. His only thought was to get it off, get it off, get it off and it fueled him forward. Surging upward, he threw Shiro’s body off of his, the black paladin making contact with one of the pillars behind him. Momentarily dazed, Shiro shook his head and stood, the ever-present defensive stance returning. Lance was already up, knowing he needed to start fighting back if he had any chance of getting an opportunity to talk with Shiro. He certainly would be no good to the older man dead.

Lance desperately tried to remember each time he sparred with Shiro in the training room. Opportunities for it were a bit sparse, but his keen eye picked up on several ticks Shiro portrayed when battling. Watching the man lunge for him again, Lance swiftly ducked and sent his closed fist upward almost directly below Shiro’s throat, recalling key points the man had taught him.

The collarbone is the weakest bone in the body. In a pinch, break it.

Don’t be civil. It’s hurt or be hurt.

Lance felt a crunch under his knuckles as Shiro sailed past him with a shriek.

Balance yourself. Distribute your weight for defense.

Lance knew from training that Shiro was heavy and it was solid muscle. If he had to stop Shiro in his tracks in order to avoid serious injury, he may as well lie down and break his own spine to save Shiro the trouble.

Keep your eye on the prize. Swordfighting is an art - use what you have.

Lance set his feet shoulder-width apart, bracing his torso and lifting the mech sword the Galra soldier had thrown out with him before this all began. Shiro, lifting himself from the sand and clutching his neck, gritted his teeth. Lance’s blood ran cold as he watched Shiro’s pupils dilate, giving him the same gaze as a feral, cornered animal. Lance knew this wasn’t Shiro now - this was the Champion. He was in survival mode only.

The rush this time was unexpected and fast. Lance flew backward and landed squarely on his lower back. He didn’t want to acknowledge the faint crack he heard. Attempting to stand, his new leg did nothing. Had it broken? How was that possible? Was there some sort of defect? Why now?

Shiro kicked the large sword from Lance’s grip. His arm lit up, he raised it above his head. Lance closed his eyes, mentally begging Shiro not to blame himself after he came back to reality. Before he could even flinch, he felt a jolt above him. Risking a glance, he watched as Shiro tipped forward, an electrical device implanted between his shoulder blades. All 200 pounds of him crashed onto Lance, doing nothing to help his damaged back. Breath leaving him, he struggled to shove Shiro’s body off of his. After a few moments, the Galran soldier grabbed Shiro under his arms and lifted him off of Lance, letting the boy gasp before another pulled him from the floor as well. He couldn’t help but cry out as his leg dragged on the ground and put more strain on the contact point. Something was wrong, but he was too exhausted and confused to think about what it might be.

Pulled into an adjacent hallway, Lance could already hear a new battle commencing, the telltale crunch and splat indicating it was over quickly. As the noise faded, he became hyper-aware of the fact that Shiro was nowhere to be seen. Recognizing the faint smell of lavender coming from the fur of the creature carrying him, he looked up to see Kajfra's borderline-concerned gaze only staring forward. He let his chin fall onto his chest, sending a small vow to Shiro.

We're gonna get out of here.


	9. Chapter 9

“Princess, when was the last time you got any rest?”

Allura, startled, jumped at Coran’s voice suddenly sounding next to her. Shaking herself off, she relaxed her shoulders and let her hands fall from the console to her sides. Standing completely stiff was beginning to take its toll on her as her muscles ached from being moved.

“I’ll admit, it’s been a while,” she replied softly.

Coran’s hand rested upon her shoulder and she turned to see his forlorn eyes boring into her own.

“Is the Teleduv prepared?” she asked, hope lining her voice for the first time in days.

Coran nodded. “Only one more glass plate to replace and we’ll be right as rain,” he said. His words held a hesitantly optimistic tone; one that Allura picked up on immediately.

“But…” she began, motioning for Coran to continue.

“But we aren’t much closer to finding out which direction the Galran warship may have gone. When it hit the Castle, our sensors went offline temporarily so we couldn’t get any tracking on it. Pidge is still working hard, poor thing. I’m not sure she’s slept much either.”

Allura believed it. She knew Pidge to be headstrong and hardworking, but it was often to a fault. “I’ll visit her later,” she said. “Maybe I can convince her to close her eyes for a bit.”

“Princess…” Coran started. “You know you must also try to get some sleep. You’ll be no good to Lance and Shiro if you’re too exhausted to see three feet ahead of you.”

Allura blinked and sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I just can’t bear to think of them on their own for much longer.”

“Lance and Shiro are paladins of Voltron,” Coran stated. “They’ve been trained for things like this. I’m sure they’re giving the Galrans a hard time. Maybe the Galra will hand them back over because they’re sick of the constant banter.” It was a halfhearted attempt to lighten the mood, but mildly successful. Allura chuckled.

“You may be right. I wonder if Lance has hit on any of the new ladies he’s met to pass the time.”

“They’re going to be ok, Allura,” Coran responded quietly. “Trust them.”

“I do trust them,” the princess said. “I just don’t trust that we can reach them any time soon.”

“Let me worry about that,” Coran said. “You just go get some rest.” He began leading her in the direction of her quarters with a gentle hand on her arm. “I promise to keep watch.”

“Thank you, Coran,” Allura said, genuine relief dripping from her words.

“What are friends for?” came the heavily-accented reply.

Once he was sure Allura had found her way to her chamber, Coran walked back to the control room to bring up the scanners and run diagnostics. To his surprise, the Castle indicated an almost sufficient power supply to make another jump or two through wormholes should they take that route to rescue the paladins. The weight of the task sat heavily on his shoulders as he closed the alerts and lifted his shoulders. There he stood, hugging his arms around himself as he gazed to the stars.

___

Those same stars were no solace to Lance as he woke up, groggy and disoriented, in what could only be described as a makeshift med bay. Dim purple hues covered the walls and the bright white lights above him caused him to squint. Propping himself up on his elbows, he noticed his legs were being held down by clamps on his ankles. The connection point of his new prosthetic pulsed and looking at it had Lance grimacing at its appearance. All of Shiro’s weight hadn’t been kind to his skin. The boy could see streaks where the prosthetic had pulled and broken skin and the muscles around the edge certainly didn’t feel wonderful. Based on his lingering drowsiness, it was safe to assume he’d been put under to fix the problems. He wiggled the metallic toes slowly, and he would never admit the immediate fascination with watching himself control any part of this leg.

His ears picked up incoming footsteps, and he quietly put his head back down on the table. He heard the swoosh of the door as he closed his eyes and evened his breathing. Light footsteps, most likely wearing soldiers’ boots, made their way around the room and to Lance’s side.

“I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice said.

Lance opened his eyes to just a slit to see Kajfra staring down at him.

“Wh...what happened?” he asked, his throat scratchy.

“You got your ass whooped,” the Galran said matter-of-factly as she began running her fingers along Lance’s thigh. “I almost felt bad watching.”

Lance groaned as Kajfra touched a particularly sensitive spot halfway down his thigh where the more serious injuries began. “Why do you even care?” he asked. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so blunt, but the paladin was tired of not getting any answers. “I’m just another prisoner here.”

Kajfra was silent for a moment. “True,” she began slowly. “But there’s something about you and the Cham-”

“Shiro,” Lance interrupted. “His name is Shiro.”

Kajfra hummed. “Shiro, then. Something about you and Shiro seems...different than the others.”

Lance turned to face her. “How do you mean?”

“Neither of you have given in to the horrors of being a prisoner. I was betting that at least you would have cracked by now, considering the Ch-, Shiro has experienced all of this before.” She started to put pressure on Lance’s leg, eliciting a groan and gritted teeth. “Lucky for the two of you, I’m interested in seeing how this all plays out. I’ve been assigned to keep watch over you. I look forward to witnessing just how far you make it.”

Lance couldn’t help the chill that shuddered down his spine. “How far are you expecting?” he asked in a small voice.

“You may surprise me,” was the only answer he received.

For his own sake, he sure as hell hoped so. He listened as Kajfra stood and adjusted a few things behind him; likely something to do with medicine doses or sensors or some other alien device that would monitor things Lance hadn’t even thought of. He tried to keep telling himself not to let his overwhelming anxiety show on his face. He was a paladin of Voltron, and paladins were strong and unyielding. Shiro would never show weakness in the face of this adversity.

“I’d sleep while you can,” Kajfra said as she moved toward the exit. “Your prosthetic has been enhanced and I wouldn’t expect to stay in the med bay much longer.” Her clawed hand was placed upon the scanner to open the door when Lance spoke up.

“Kajfra?”

“Mm?” she murmured, turning to face him.

The boy was silent for a few beats. Then, “thank you.”

“For?”

Lance blinked away tears that nearly threatened to fall.

“For being even a little bit kind.”

Kajfra hesitated before finally turning and walking out the door, but not without a small utterance of “no problem, kid.”

Lance, now left alone, decided to take her advice. He closed his eyes and tried to get a little bit of rest.

_

His rest did not last. It felt as though only a few moments had passed when he was roughly awoken by large furry hands. An unfamiliar soldier snarled down at him, not bothering to be gentle as he pulled Lance through the adjacent hallways. The paladin noticed his prosthetic felt much sturdier and the connection point felt more natural. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d grown used to it or because Haggar had returned during his comatose state to work some magic and fix what had been damaged. Either way, Lance took the walk to their destination, as short as it was, to familiarize himself with controlling it like a regular leg. It appeared to listen to commands from his brain with significantly more ease than before.

“In here,” the soldier said gruffly, pointing to a small, dimly-lit room.

Lance was pushed forward, steadying himself on the metallic wall next to him. The door behind him closed and the room was significantly darker and smaller than he had originally thought just looking at it. Claustrophobia began creeping in, but Lance forced it back down. Running his hand alongside him as he took careful steps, he quickly ran into the next wall. An aching deja vu rose to the surface. Before he could move on with his exploration, a loud screech sounded behind him as the main door to the room reopened. He turned to see a tall silhouette facing him.

As the figure stepped forward, Lance saw that this Galran was dressed much more professionally than any of the others he’d seen. He was tall and slender with gloved hands held behind his back casually. Bright golden scleras were contrasted starkly against blue irises.

“Lance, is it?” he asked. His accent was thicker than the typical Galran’s and sounded vaguely similar to Allura’s, not that Lance would ever admit that out loud.

“Who are you, my executioner?” Lance said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Come to finish me off before your crowds can see some monster do it for you?”

The newcomer seemed unperturbed by his tone. “Quite the opposite,” he replied simply. His eyes narrowed, his long silver hair shifting as he put his hands on his hips. “I am Prince Lotor, and I’m here to offer you freedom.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lotor? Why did that name sound so…familiar? Lance knew he had heard it once before, but the instance slipped his mind as he was met with the prince’s expectant silence.

“Freedom?”

Lotor grinned, showing sharpened fangs under his lips. “I had the privilege of observing your last performance.” Lance shuddered at the phrasing. “As bored as I usually am at these things, you intrigued me. Your fight with the Champion was really quite something.”

At the mention of Shiro, Lance perked up. “Where’s Shiro?” he demanded, not really expecting much of an answer. “Where are you keeping him?”

For a moment, a flash of confusion crossed Lotor’s face but it was gone so quickly that Lance half believed he’d imagined it.

“Don’t worry yourself, paladin,” he said. “He remains alive and on the ship. You humans are very resilient to change and modification.” Lance’s blood ran cold. “First we saw it with him, now with you. I want to see what more you’re capable of, boy.”

“Yeah?” Lance hissed, putting up a wall of bravado he certainly did not feel. “Why don’t you come over here so you can find out?”

“Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”

Without warning, the Galran was on top of Lance, swinging his sword at the Blue Paladin’s head. Stopping it mere centimeters from his ear, Lance felt his hair shift in the small breeze the movement caused. Lotor’s face was suddenly directly in front of his, his smile gone and a sharp look in his eyes.

“Understand this, paladin,” he spat. “I am your only ticket out of the arena. I hold more power here than you could possibly imagine. The only reason your head is still connected to your neck is because I allow it to be. Do not take my act of charity as weakness.”

Lance swallowed, unable to form coherent thoughts with the piercing golden eyes staring into his own.

“You can do one of two things,” the prince continued. “You can accept my offer and come to my ship, or I can throw you in the arena with no weapons and no preparation and leave you there to suffocate under the foot of some beast that cares not for your life. Make your choice.”

Lance, as much as he would never fess it up to Allura, was shaking. Quivering under Lotor’s stare, his mind ran a mile a minute. If he said yes to what Lotor was giving him, would he ever have a chance to even see Shiro again? He refused to believe he could trust any of what Lotor said; for all Lance knew he would be led to his execution no matter what choice he made. But, if he were to be tossed in the arena, he would definitely be killed in a matter of minutes. Lotor was a prince; he had the status to tell the other guards not to remove Lance until all he became was a body in the sand. Forget the effort Haggar put in to creating his leg; it would all be over. At the end of the day, Lance knew deep in his gut that he only really had one option.

“Ok.”

Lotor stood back, sheathing his blade. “Excellent. Follow me, paladin.”

Without another word, he turned and made his way into the hallway. Lance hurriedly followed, not keen on ending up at the receiving end of that sword again any time soon. Lotor, as expected, took the twists and turns of the warship as though he’d done it hundreds of times with his eyes closed. His pace was steady and firm. The further they travelled, the more disoriented Lance became. He quickly came to the realization that if he had tried to escape by himself to find Shiro he wouldn’t have gotten far; everything looked the same. Everything had that disgusting grey and violet hue. Guards stood at every corner, only glancing at Lance as he and Lotor passed by. If anything, they almost seemed to move out of Lotor’s wake. Lance followed like a puppy, allowing himself to breathe for a moment and bask in the fact that he was not being chased for sport. Is this how Shiro felt when he escaped the first time?

“You must have a name, yes?” Lotor asked.

Lance shook himself from his daydreaming. “Yes,” he began. “Lance.”

“Lance.” Lotor said it slowly as though tasting it on his tongue. Lance immediately regretted giving his actual name, but it was too late to take it back now. “I see my mother got to you before I could,” the prince went on. “I can’t say I’m surprised; she does like to meddle.”

Lance’s mind raced. Mother? Was he talking about Kajfra? He couldn’t be - Kajfra was just a low-level guard on duty. She was of no status to be the mother of a prince. That had to mean…

“Haggar?”

Lance just about covered his mouth with his hand. He hadn’t meant to say the name out loud, let alone at the shocked volume he did. Lotor glanced back. “Yes. You guess correctly, Blue Paladin. How smart you must be.”

Lance frowned at the intonation of sarcasm that dripped from Lotor’s mouth like venom.

“My mother is one of many…talents,” Lotor said as they crossed an overhead bridge to a large room housing many smaller ships. “She will play with anything she can get her hands on, and humans just so happen to be her favorite. You’re so pliable and so easily rearranged.” He led Lance to the largest of the ships in the bay. It was sleek and looked to be recently shined as it almost glowed under the fluorescent lights. “Also,” the prince said as he pushed Lance ahead of him into the cockpit. “Probably best to keep our little road trip to ourselves. Mother has no idea I’m even here, and by the time the guards tell her we’ll be long gone. I wish I could be here to see her face when she realizes her little pet is gone.”

Lance froze, only moving again as a thin, purple-haired Galran grabbed his arm as Lotor released him.

“This way,” she said, her voice firm.

“Wait, but - ”

“I said - ”

“Let him speak,” Lotor stated as he sat calmly in the main chair. Three other Galrans seated themselves at the controls, quickly lifting the ship and sending it into space.

“You never said we were leaving!” Lance cried.

“You can’t have expected me to stay there,” Lotor said, resting his chin on his hand as though it were common sense and he was explaining to a child. “I’m not exactly in good standings with my mother at the moment.”

“But, Shiro - ”

“ - is no longer your concern.”

Lance looked to Lotor helplessly. He didn’t care now that he was openly showing panic.

“Relax, paladin,” Lotor said. “Mother won’t let them go to waste.”

With that, the woman holding onto Lance began dragging him to the back of the ship. Lotor listened as his yells and taunts grew fainter until they stopped entirely. The Galran returned empty-handed.

“He’s been put under,” she said.

“Wonderful,” Lotor replied as the woman took her place at the front control deck. The silence inside the ship was broken only by the tapping of Lotor’s fingers on the arm of the chair. His thoughts circled around each other. Lance, Haggar, Shiro; it was all so complicated and, quite frankly, not something he wanted to deal with just yet. Instead, he leaned back and closed his eyes to rest before their next stop. Once he awoke, he would formulate his next move.

As Lance was kicking at his cell door and cursing, Shiro was doing much of the same. He had awoken not long ago with blood covering his face and no memory of the past few hours. He was going stir crazy in this stupid tiny room and his patience was running so thin he was shocked he had any left. Gritting his teeth, he called out into the hallway again from the square window on the door.

“Hello?!”

Silence.

“Answer me!”

“Still the feisty one, are we?”

Shiro turned to see a Galran walking his way. The sharp silver mohawk was strangely familiar as she opened the cell door and grabbed his arm to lead him out. Shiro scowled at the metal band settled on his right arm that kept him from powering it up and showing this Galran exactly what he thought about his predicament.

“Where are you taking me? Where’s Lance?”

“Your friend is fine,” the Galran replied. Her voice was raspy but strong. She must be some sort of higher-up. She led Shiro through winding pathways throughout the ship before reaching a large intricate door guarded by four aggressive-looking soldiers. She raised a hand, signaling them to stand down. After the door opened for her, she pushed Shiro inside.

The man looked around at his current surroundings which included almost all glass. His eyes began shifting rapidly, trying to take in as much as he could before the Galran could manhandle him again. If there was an escape route, he had better find it fast. However, before he could glance around further, he heard a voice from in front of him that sent shivers down his spine.

“Champion.”

Shiro only ever heard that voice in nightmares now. He couldn’t help the involuntary shudder that passed through him as the Galran woman who’d led him here kicked him to his knees in front of The Witch.

“Long time, no see,” Haggar continued. “I suppose for you, though, it’s been even longer.”

What was that even supposed to mean? Shiro wracked his brain for any recent memory of being in even the same room as her but found nothing.

“Leave us,” Haggar commanded, looking toward the Galran woman who bowed her head slightly before turning and exiting the cockpit door. As she did so, Shiro was able to pick up a very familiar ding from in front of him as a holo-message was received. In front of the display stood a large, brute figure. The Black Paladin recognized his deep grey and maroon wardrobe in an instant. His voice was deep and demanding, quintessence almost pouring from his voice as a group of agonizingly angry faces appeared before him. Haggar grabbed under one of his arms, dragging him to kneel in front of Zarkon facing the holo-screen in front of him.

“Shiro!”

“Shiro?!”

“Are you ok?”

“Where’s Lance?!”

Voices from everyone onscreen began pouring through. Shiro looked up at his team and put on the bravest face he could.

“Hello, Voltron,” Zarkon growled, the bass of his voice echoing ominously through the large room. “I believe I have something you want.”

Allura’s face grew stern as she made her way to the front of the others to speak with Zarkon directly. “Return to us our paladins,” she commanded.

“Or what?” Zarkon replied, grinning.

“Or we’ll take them back by force.”

The Galran dictator almost laughed in Allura’s face. “You only have three measly little lions left,” he said. “You can’t possibly hope to get anywhere near this ship. That is, if you can find us.”

Blood turning cold as ice, Shiro realized he was right. Without Lance or himself, the Black and Blue lions were essentially out of commission. The green lion was far too small and the yellow lion far too slow to be of much use on their own, and Keith would likely fly the red lion directly into the heart of the ship which would result in a suicide mission. On top of that, Voltron didn’t really have any idea where Shiro and Lance were in a vast universe that was eons long. Although, they were in the ship’s cockpit. There’s no way Zarkon or his soldiers would know where they were at any given time unless…

Shiro glimpsed downward near one of the small control panels further to the front of the ship where he saw holograms of planets. Symbols and numbers and stars circled around themselves in a way that Shiro would find fascinating if he were in any other situation. Turning back to the holo-screen, he noticed Pidge looking only at him. She had a brave face, but it seemed as though her eyes held a fear she refused to show in front of the others. Shiro tried to give a reassuring gaze and he saw her stance relax only slightly. He blinked, giving her a smirk.

Meanwhile, Allura and Zarkon were at a stalemate.

“What is it you want?” Allura asked, her eyes narrowing.

“What I have always wanted,” Zarkon said. “You give me the Black Lion, and I give you your paladins.”

“Never!” Keith snarled. Allura put a hand up to steady him. Shiro blinked again.

“Keep your communications open,” Allura said finally. “Tomorrow I will have my decision.”

“Don’t wait too long, Princess,” Zarkon responded. “I’ve got creatures in the arena just dying to get their teeth into human flesh. I will wait no longer than 0300 hours.” With that, he shut down communications and turned to Shiro. Looking down, he glared directly into the man’s eyes.

“Enjoy your heart while it’s still beating, Paladin. It may not be come tomorrow night.”

___

Allura let out a heavy breath, loosening her tense shoulders.

“Fuck!” Keith cried.

“What do we do now?” Hunk piped up in a small voice after having been silent for the entire exchange.

Allura stayed silent a few moments before turning to face her group. “We plan.”

“We’re…not just going to leave them there, are we?”

“Of course not. We will never give up our lions and we will never give up our paladins. I refuse to lose this family.”

With that, Allura motioned for Coran to follow her as she made her way toward the Lion’s hangar. Keith jumped up to follow. Once the three were out of sight, Pidge turned to Hunk. “You alright?”

Hunk sighed. “As alright as I can be. …it’s so weird without Lance here.”

“Tell me about it,” Pidge said. “By now he would’ve already made five jokes at Zarkon’s expense.”

Hunk gave a humorless laugh.

“Hey,” Pidge said after a second of quiet. “Did you notice Shiro?”

“Yes,” Hunk said. The yellow paladin frowned. “I think he had something in his eye. He kept blinking.”

Pidge’s face almost lit up. “No, no, it wasn’t just blinking! Hunk, do you realize what that blinking was? He was giving us morse code!” She hopped over to where her notebook was lying on the floor, having been jotting words during the communication call. Opening it to the most recent page, she shoved it excitedly in Hunk’s face. He took it to see a jumble of numbers in a line. “Th-…these are…”

Pidge grinned, taking the notebook back to look at the sequence once more.

“Coordinates.”


	11. Chapter 11

As of 02-02-2021, this story is DISCONTINUED.


End file.
